It Became A Passtime
by MindAtWork
Summary: A collection of one-shots and drabbles that I write while procrastinating. Heavy on the smut.
1. Chapter 1

**This is a college AU that doesn't correspond to any of my other works. I just love me some trio and wanted to set up a smutty night for the three boys.**

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"I'm gonna fail, that's it, I'm gonna fucking fail." John sighed, his knees tucking reflexively to his chest as he groaned at the world in general.

Lafayette reached around him for the half-full bottle of something red and strong and refilled his wine glass.

"We are as prepared as we can hope to be." Lafayette told him.

"You know, you might be more confident if you'd actually study instead of crying and getting drunk." Alexander tutted, glancing over his textbook, over his glasses, highlighter poised in his hand.

John noticed how sexy it was when Alex's glasses slipped to the tip of his nose. He gulped at his wine.

Lafayette rolled his eyes, "no one here is crying. Be kind, Alexander, and, besides, studies are finding that cramming is not beneficial."

"I'm not cramming, I'm just still studying." Alex took a casual swig from his beer.

"Hey, brainiac, why don't you pay attention to us?" John leaned back into Lafayette and kicked a foot over to toe Alexander's book shut, leaving his foot in Alex's lap, his sock-covered toes running over his crotch where the book had been.

Alex made an appalled face, "John, I'm studying!"

"Fine, so be it," John shrugged and tipped his chin up, kissing the wine off Lafayette's lips.

Distracted in each other, they heard Alexander take another drink from his amber bottle and set it down hard on the coffee table along with his book. He crawled over John's body and pressed his lips against his exposed throat, teeth grazing his Adam's Apple. This set off the ricochet of John moaning into Lafayette's mouth and Lafayette gripping Alex by his hair, probably harder than he would have if it had been intended to be sexy, but that was enough for Alex to find it even more erotic. The game was on.

Alexander chuckled darkly at the pull on his hair, the pain igniting something within him. Lafayette's steel grip chipping at the flint of his arousal. He took it out on John, hand trailing over his abs, hips dropping low to ride against the freckled man's to make him more desperate for Lafayette.

Lafayette pulled away from John's mouth and quirked a brow at Alex, "ah, ah, I thought you were busy, cher."

Alex scoffed at him, "I could get eight percent on this final and still make it out with ninety-two percent, I've done the math. I can skip some studying."

Lafayette gripped his hair tighter and tugged his head roughly away from John's throat, repeating himself, "I thought you were too busy."

"I'm never too busy to screw." Alexander promised, sounding almost needy.

"Laf." John moaned pathetically, wanting Alex's attentions back, his hips rolling with need.

Lafayette shushed him and pulled him into his lap so they they were facing one another. John whimpered at the strain on his cock at this angle. Alex rolled his eyes in frustration, his body still hovering over the ghost of where John's had been on the couch moments earlier.

"That is right, my baby. We'll let Alexander do his studying since he is so busy, I can take care of you, chou. Take care of you, pleasure you." He looked over John's shoulder at Alex, a cunning smirk on his wine-stained lips.

John's lips fell apart in a dopey grin, "take me to bed, Laf?"

"That would be my pleasure." Lafayette and John stood up.

"Bring the bottle." John moved in his lithe, spritely fashion though his toes merely drug forward, never leaving the floor for the length of the hallway in their little apartment they'd gotten over the summer after proving that there was no way to fit three grown men in a dorm bed.

Lafayette grabbed the wine bottle by the neck and followed John, laughing at how heavy the drink made his lover, affecting his gravity. Lafayette realized that he, too, was drunker than he thought. This was the third bottle he and John had split, and even being very tall and very French, the wine was catching up with him. He was warm and his mind felt fuzzy at the edges, opening him up enough to fully feel his want.

John giggled, reaching to open the bedroom door, Lafayette came up behind him and caught him into his broad grasp, making him squeal in surprise. John struggled to get the door open with Lafayette's arm snaking across his chest like a seat belt, the other one found the handhold of his cut hipbone and jerked his ass against him. He desperately got the door open after having considered throwing a shoulder when he became too enamored with Laf's touch - the feel of his hard cock pressing where his ass cheeks met - to remember how doorknobs worked.

Lafayette used the leverage of John's forward momentum to toss him onto the bed. John yelped, he was sure that he'd never get used to how easily Lafayette could maneuver him, they were built similarly, Lafayette with his dancer's grace, John only just shorter, slightly broader, but when inspired, Lafayette could toss him like a rag doll. He used it to his advantage frequently.

John watched with his breath stuck in his throat as Lafayette crawled up the length of his body with the grace of a stalking jungle cat. Once he reached his mouth, John eagerly opened his lips against Lafayette's kiss. Somehow, the wine tasted even sweeter on Lafayette's tongue. John moaned between their mouths at this revelation as Lafayette's tongue curled with his. The moan was too much for Lafayette to keep his composure and he sucked John's lower lip into his mouth, hard enough to bruise it the colour of their wine. They barely noticed the slap of Alex's bare feet down the hardwood floors in the hallway.

"You started without me? Guys!" Alex complained.

Lafayette pulled off John's lip with an unceremonious slurp and looked over his shoulder at Alex, the game in his dark, molten eyes, "you are busy, cher, non? Do not worry, I am taking care of things, I do not want you to feel that you… spread too thin?"

"We've been over this." Alex cocked out a hip and crossed his arms, drinking in the sight before him.

"We're fine, Alexander. I can take care of our John." Lafayette smirked devilishly and wriggled down John's body. He nipped the tight flesh just below his navel, knowing how it would make John cry out, knowing, too, that John's cries would summon Alexander even more to make their game of exclusion more fun.

"No, no, need Alex, too." John groaned, his feet kicking out straight.

"So needy tonight, chou. All of the wine has gone to your head."

John gripped the sheets as Lafayette flattened his tongue against the sore skin he'd just bitten. Alexander took John's plea as an invitation. Lafayette nudged Alex away with his hip, getting brazenly greedy with John. Alex let out an impatient huff at being kept away from the action. Lafayette gently moved John's shirt out of the way and swirled his tongue against John's nipple.

Alex groaned in pleasure at the sounds that John was making, his lover's noise reverberating through his cock. Lafayette blindly grabbed Alex's hand and pressed it against John's other nipple, inviting him once and for all into their lust. The skin perked immediately at the competing touch of Lafayette's soft mouth and the calluses on Alex's fingers.

Lafayette hooked his fingers in the waistband of John's sweatpants and pulled them down, biting his lip when John's cock sprung free, bouncing and shiny with precome already. Alex, now greedy for both of his lovers, licked the spot behind Lafayette's ear.

Lafayette hissed with pleasure, both his resolve and knees buckling as Alex suckled at the corner of his jaw just under his earlobe.

Alex's mouth moved to find John's and he let him kiss the crisp, yeasty taste of beer out of his mouth. John's kisses were velvety and sweet. Alex moaned and licked into his mouth. Lafayette kissed his way to the edge of John's torso and hiked up Alexander's shirt to suckle at the small of his back, inciting Alex to deepen his kiss with John, swiping his thumb over John's cheek.

As Alex moved to straddle John, his hair was yanked back again, the pain pricked his eyes with tears and his cock twitched with excitement at the sensation, the nerves down his spine were alight.

"You think you're just going to decide to interrupt John and I, tease me, and not have to give me any more attention? Cher, you are so brilliant, supremely so, how is it that you can be so thick?"

Alexander couldn't resist, "got something real thick for you."

Lafayette gripped his hair harder and Alex moaned, the sound went straight to John's cock, he rocked his hips up toward Alexander's, making the man on top of him moan again. Alex's fingernails bit into John's chest as Lafayette's mouth connected with his, John writhed and keened at the visual as well as the feeling of Alex's nails.

Lafayette broke his kiss with Alex and winked down at John, "you are so naughty, chou."

John nodded, glancing at Lafayette through his lashes, Lafayette swallowed hard, "and so pretty. Isn't he so pretty, Alexander?"

Alex dropped his ear against John's chest, hugging him, "so pretty."

"Let's share him." Lafayette took Alex's hand to sit him up and pressed his lips to his.

Alex moaned into Lafayette's mouth as John bucked his hips up against his groin. Lafayette moved away and started to rummage under their bed for the shoebox that held their favourite toys and lube. While Lafayette collected their supplies, Alex moved to sit behind John and dropped his chin to nip at his collar bone.

"Shirt." Lafayette swished two fingers through the air to signal John to discard his clothing.

He sat up to obey and turned to face Alex, he kissed him softly, letting Alex open their kiss, accepting what he wanted to give him. He reached up and pulled out the highlighter that had been shoved in his messy bun, along with a pen, along with a mechanical pencil and snorted into his boyfriend's mouth as he tugged the hair tie free, adding it to the two already on his wrist.

"Your hair's like a pen cup." He giggled against Alex's mouth and set the writing instruments on the bedside table.

Alex shrugged at him and let John pull his hoodie off, leaving him bare chested, he bent to unbutton Alex's jeans and slid them down his legs. Lafayette waited at the end of the bed, also naked, wearing only a dark smirk. John settled back between Alex's bent legs, savouring the warmth of his chest on his back. Alexander ran his hands over John's body and pressed a kiss to his shoulder, tempted to suck it purple as his fingers found the hardness of John's nipple.

Lafayette clicked his tongue at the sight of them together and bent forward to kiss at John's abdomen. He worked his way up John's body and over to Alex's neck and jaw, his tongue tracing Alex's goatee. Lafayette pulled his glasses off and folded the arms down, setting them on the bedside table which was starting to resemble a sexy librarian scene.

"Now, I can't see you." Alexander grumbled.

"Then just feel." Lafayette grunted.

Alex kept his fingers over John's nipple, the other hand tangled in Lafayette's tight coils as their mouths found each other, his mostly useless eyes fluttered shut, awakening the sensations.

John was pinned between them, neck craned to lap at Lafayette's chest. Lafayette reached down and toyed lazily with John's cock, enough to keep him needy. Laf reached two fingers into John's mouth and John took the hint to be good and suck the digits, hollowing his cheeks around them. Lafayette tapped at his cheek with his thumb and John opened his mouth obediently. The wet fingers were at his entrance. He mewled at the feeling and arched back against Alex, the knobs of his spine giving Alexander's cock satisfying friction.

The sensation of a finger pressing inside him made John gasp, falling back on Alex who smiled against Lafayette's mouth. Alexander wanted to chase John's pleasure and exacerbate it. He reached between John and Lafayette to wrap his hand around his waiting cock. John cried out and turned his head against Alex's chest as another finger was added. Lafayette patted at John's thighs and he took the hint to hitch them over Alex's knees, opening himself.

Lafayette broke away from Alex's lips, feeling how swollen his own lips were. He took in the sight of his boys and bit his tender lip.

"Laf…" John breathed.

"Tell me what you want, chou."

"Want you." He insisted.

"And what is it that you want from me?"

Alexander smirked at the game, enjoying the torment that it brought John, he bit John's ear and whispered, "tell him, baby boy, tell Laf what his boy wants."

"Want your cock, Laf, want it in me. Want you to fuck me in Alex's arms, want to feel you come inside me, want you to make me come, please. Please, fuck, God, Laf, I need your cock."

Lafayette sat back on his heels, "mon dieu, that was even more than I could have expected."

Alex tongued the shell of John's ear, "you did beautifully, baby boy."

Lafayette slicked his cock in lube, it looked normal wrapped in his long fingers, but once he pressed the tip to John's entrance it took on a gargantuan appearance, he pressed in slowly and braced his hands on Alex's knees. John hiccupped out a sob as the stretch burned him to his core.

"Yes!" He hissed, his back arching away from Alexander.

"You are okay?" Lafayette asked softly.

John nodded, "so good."

"Look how pretty he is on my cock." Lafayette smirked to Alex.

"Gorgeous." Alex agreed, working John's cock in his fist.

John could feeling his walls trembling as Lafayette continued his assault of John's prostate. His arms wrapped up around Lafayette's neck and he pulled him into a kiss. Lafayette matched the rhythm of his tongue to the rhythm of his cock and John whimpered, his hands falling to the mattress, he held Alex's hips and let pleasure consume him, spilling over Alex's hand.

Alex moaned as Lafayette sucked his fingers clean, John's taste and Alex's noises sent him over the edge, he lie hard against John and submitted to his own pleasure. Lafayette slid free of him and flopped somehow gracefully beside them, reaching to grab a baby wipe to clean them. John moved to curl around him. Alex gave them a moment, casually stroking his own, still hard cock.

"Psst!" Alex hissed after a few moments.

Lafayette leaned up and blinked away the tiredness of the comedown, "do you require my services as well?"

Alex shook his head and pounced over John onto him, "oh, no, you're the one getting my services. I told you I had something thick ready for you."

"That so?" Lafayette quirked his eyebrow.

"Sure fucking is." He motioned down to his cock in hand.

John scooted over to make room.

"Baby, you think you can get him ready for me?" Alex stroked John's shoulder.

John nodded and retrieved the lube, Alex got on all fours and crawled to straddle Lafayette's head, carefully moving his curls out of the way - not wanting to hurt him by accident, when he did hurt him, he wanted it to be on purpose - before gripping the headboard. Lafayette took the hint and lapped at the underside of Alex's balls.

Alex threw his head back and let a moan tear through him. Lafayette grew needier, suckling at his shaft. Alexander listened to the wet slapping sounds of John getting him ready.

"Thank you, Jack." Alex nodded for John to remove himself.

John kissed Alex on the lips and curled up on the pillows to watch the show that was unfolding. He appreciated the dance between Lafayette and Alex, the power struggle of their intimacy that ebbed and flowed as their roles changed. He loved being taken care of by them, but he also enjoyed watching what they would do to each other.

"On all fours." Alex commanded softly.

Lafayette nodded and obeyed. Alex kneed his thighs to drop him lower and compensate for being so much shorter. Lafayette yelped as his face dropped to the pillows. Alex stared at Lafayette's beautiful, exposed body and slapped a flat hand over his ass, watching the hole pucker when he pulled back to slap him again, Lafayette moaned a low sound of endless pleasure. Alex slicked his cock and pressed the tip against Lafayette's entrance, dragging it over the puckered flesh.

"Do you still think that I'm too busy for you?"

"Um…" Lafayette struggled to form words with Alex's hard cock so close.

Alex swatted his ass cheek lightly to focus him, "I said, 'do you still think that I'm too busy for you?''"

"N-non, monsieur."

"Good," he pressed into Lafayette and enjoyed watching his face drop to the pillow unceremoniously, "you were so ready, did John really do that well opening you up, or are you just that much of a cockslut?"

"I… I…" Lafayette babbled, until his cries turned into reckless sounds of passion.

"La ferme, salope. I asked you a question." He slapped his ass cheek again.

Lafayette bit back a cry in the heat of Alex's thrusts, 'I am just a slut for you, monsieur."

"Tu es à moi, d'accord?" Alex traced Lafayette's delicate spine.

Lafayette nodded.

"Dis-le!" Alex pumped into him relentlessly, driving against his prostate.

"I am yours!" Lafayette cried proudly.

The English declaration made John's attention stir and he rolled onto his side and stroked Lafayette's cheek with a dumb smile, enjoying how twisted with pleasure his face was under Alex's attentions.

Alex folded himself against Lafayette's back and felt his orgasm coming, he thrust a hand out to John and gripped his knuckles tightly, seeking the connection to both of his lovers as his climax rippled through him. Lafayette spent himself again on the sheets.

Alexander cleaned Lafayette up, gently caring for him, pressing kisses to his neck, soothing the red marks he'd left on his ass cheeks. They all stayed naked and curled up under the blankets together, Lafayette in the middle, Alex and John each tucked under an arm, holding hands over Lafayette's chest.

"Good luck with finals tomorrow." Alex mumbled, sleep hunting him.

"Yeah, you too." John sighed.

"I'll be fine… you will, too, Jack. You're so smart."

"Just not in physics."

Lafayette let out a little snore that quieted John and Alexander's conversation.

"I love you," Alex told them both and fell asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Modern AU, unrelated to any other works. John and Alexander are roommates. This burns slower than wet paper.**

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I picked my phone up off my chest and lit it up, seeing the picture of me and Francis from last Christmas on my lock screen… no notifications. Tired of my own loneliness and on the tail end of another night without my phone buzzing I got up from my bed and crossed the hallway to the closed door and knocked lightly. I could hear keys being typed on at a furious pace. After I knocked, the typing fell silent.

"Yeah?" His voice was on the other side of the door.

"Hey," I peered around the door, creaking as I opened it.

"What's up, John?" Alexander looked at me over his laptop with a grin and set his half empty rocks glass down on the side table.

"Just in a bummer mood." I stared at the doorknob.

Alexander's face turned serious as he put his computer aside and sat up, crossing his legs, "what's going on?"

I shrugged and leaned against the doorframe, not wanting to cross into his space, "lonely, I guess. Missing Francis. When it was good it was good, y'know?"

He breathed a laugh and shook his head, self consciously smoothing out the blankets, "fucking hell, do I. Wanna come sit?"

I closed the distance to him and sat on the foot of his bed and tucked a knee up to my chest. He let his still-shower damp hair down from its bun and shook it out with fingers and yawned widely.

"Do… do you think it's really over this time with you and Thomas?" I asked.

Alex leaned back into the pillows and fingered a fold in the empty sheets next to him, "who the hell even knows? He might come back, I might be dumb enough to let him, things'll be great for a week, then we'll be back where we are… where we've been."

He looked so warm, his hair spread out on the pillow, chest wide enough to be cozy under his thin t-shirt. I flopped down next to him, occupying the cold, empty space beside him. He picked his rocks glass back up and drank from it.

"I don't know why I stayed so long." I sighed, tucking my legs closer together to keep from accidentally brushing his leg with my own.

"Yeah…"

"Whatcha working on?"

He rolled his eyes and took a drink, "just some work shit."

I watched as his eyes held mine before scanning over me, my breath catching.

"What's on your mind?"

"Loneliness, like you said."

I snorted and picked up my phone scrolling through facebook, distracting myself from the flooding confusion, "yeah."

"Anything exciting happening on facebook?" He rolled over onto his stomach and looked over my shoulder at my phone.

"Not really." I shrugged.

He leaned his head on my shoulder and I kept scrolling, blowing the loose curl that hang in my eyes out of the way in frustration when I saw a cat video that Francis shared. Alex's cheek was warm on my shoulder, he propped his chin up with his hand.

"I don't know what good you think social media will do." He chuckled.

"I don't know…" I put my phone to sleep and dropped it on his bed and set my head in the crook of my arm.

Alex rolled to his side and lie on his pillows, our faces close to each other, elbows nearly touching, a prickle ran up my arm, and the hairs on the back of my neck stood up.

He bit his lip and then opened his mouth, shutting it and finally speaking, "can… can I hold you? Is that weird?"

"Oh, God, please." I nodded, desperate for the comfort of human contact, tired of being cold and lonely.

I scooted up the bed and pressed myself against his chest. He smelled like salted amber and I burrowed closer as he wrapped his arms around me, warm and strong, he gave the best hugs and him holding me like this was no different. I sighed out loud subconsciously and felt the heat rush to my face, he let out a breathy laugh that ghosted over my skin. I breathed in his scent, the slightest hint of whiskey mingling with each exhale. He slid down the bed until we were lying in his cozy bed. His hand found my hair and worked through the curls casually, easing through tangles. My eyes closed at the bliss of the contact. We lie in silence like that for a while until I stretched and adjusted myself.

"You tried any of the online shit?" He asked.

I shrugged, "not really ready to accept defeat yet. You?"

"Yeah, during each of our on again off again's. Mostly just dick pics."

"Blegh," I grumbled at the thought of swiping and swiping to try and find love in a stranger on the internet.

He picked up his phone and opened one of the dating apps, I watched him navigate through it, "those all the hot guys talking to you?"

"Nah," he swiped through to a new screen, "these are."

My eyes scanned the attractive men and women in his recent conversations list and I felt my mouth go dry but brushed it off and closed my eyes, drinking in the moment we had together.

"You know you could find someone in a heartbeat." He squeezed me tighter and sighed, the hair of his goatee scratched at my forehead, he rubbed my bicep casually through my shirt.

"Yeah, right."

"You totally could," I heard his phone click to sleep.

His hand trailed up to my hair again and I felt his nose against my scalp, and heard him breathe deeply and almost sigh contentedly.

I nuzzled closer against his chest, "why do we not do this all the time?"

"Hmm?" He sighed again, I guessed he was falling asleep.

"Why don't we cuddle all the time? I hate sleeping alone."

"Mm… 'cause it's been a while since either of us slept alone?"

I traced my fingers over the soft cotton covering his chest, "yeah, I guess so, but like, why not in college? We've lived together for the last four years."

"Probably because in college you _never_ slept alone." He laughed.

"Yeah... " I agreed.

"You're not over him are you?" Alex sounded so matter of fact, he peered into my soul.

"Maybe... I think I'm just not ready to be by myself. I thought this might have been it." I reached up to tangle my fingers in his hair.

"Fucking sucks…" I heard the heaviness in his voice, his fingers stuttered as they traced my arm.

"Yeah… Do… you want me to hold you?"

"Nah, I like holding you. Thomas is shit to cuddle with."

"Really?"

He snorted a laugh, "yeah."

"Even after… you guys..." the dry mouth was back.

"Ha, yeah, he's a roll over and go to sleep type."

"I just don't get it, like, why wouldn't you want to cuddle afterwards?"

"I dunno,"

His damp hair was slick in my hands, twisting it through my fingers was methodical and made me tired.

"I should go to bed." I sighed and stretched, liking the cramp in my legs from the stretch.

"You could just stay." His suggestion was quiet, I felt his grip tighten just slightly.

"Nah, you don't want that." I brushed it off but didn't move.

"John… will you stay?"

I wiggled in his arms and breathed him in, "okay."

He reached back and turned off the lights and held me in the dark.

"This feels so good," he breathed a chuckle.

"Yeah, it does."

He massaged my scalp and twisted his fingers in my curls. I lie in the darkness with him, enjoying his warmth, how strong he felt against me. I nosed his chest and breathed deeply again, his scent swirling around me, the thought of Francis melted away and I felt a hot tear streak across the bridge of my nose. I swallowed and took a breath through my mouth, my stomach clenching. I didn't want Alexander to catch me crying in his arms. Another tear fell and his arms tightened around me. I was silent.

"It's okay," Alex whispered.

Knowing I'd been caught, I reached up between us and covered my face with my hands and cried.

"Jack, you're okay. I've got you." He ran his hand down my back.

Just because he'd seen me cry didn't mean that I wanted him to while I was in his arms… in his bed.

I sniffled and found enough of my voice to speak empty words, "I should go."

His voice was so level, "only if you want to. I'll keep holding you all night if you want."

I lost my voice in my tears and nodded, surrendering to him, to the press of his body on mine, soft and hard in the right places to make him the perfect cuddle partner; so warm, so safe, so… Alex. My best friend, my roommate, my safe place.

His hand ran a circuit up and down my back and settled at the small of my back where the hem of my shirt had ridden up, the skin to skin contact lit me up. He rolled his ankles, I smirked at the little pops that all of his joints made as he settled in for the night and he tucked his calf between mine, slowly edging his knee between mine. I shifted my hips and hitched my leg all the way over his.

Alex's hand moved from the small of my back and came to rest on my hip, his other arm still tucked around my body.

"I think we're going to have to do this every night." He decided.

"Okay." I laughed, an awkward sound, my throat clotted from crying.

"You're just too comfortable to let you sleep alone."

"Except for when all those tinder dates come rolling in." I dropped my hand to his flank and played with the wrinkles in his shirt.

"Well, yeah, obviously… although… both of us might be a good selling point on tinder."

"You goofy." I laughed.

"I've seen weirder on there." He chuckled back.

"Thanks for letting me sleep with you."

"Huh?" He cleared his throat.

"For… letting me cuddle with you and… sleep here."

"Oh, right, yeah, yeah, John, of course, you're always welcome."

I detangled myself from him and rolled over, pressing my back into chest, he folded his legs against mine. I tucked my hands under my chin and his fingers strolled over my wrist and laced around my own fingers. I consciously forced my lungs to accept fresh air and slept with a grin on my face.


	3. Chapter 3

**I received a request for a follow up to the last chapter, so this exists in that same universe and takes place a few days later. Enjoy!**

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I blew the eraser shavings away from the page, I was working at, letting them fall onto my sheets before I kept shading. From the hallway I heard the door unlock, open and then shut again and felt relieved to know that he was home… even more relieved at realizing that he was alone. He knocked at my door and I invited him in.

"How was your… date?" I asked.

He shrugged and licked his lips, his eyebrows raised high, trying to keep his eyes open wider.

"You're totally drunk right now!" I laughed and got off my bed, moving toward him.

"Maybe I'm… tipsy." he conceded.

"So who was this one with?"

"Just some dude. Another lawyer, kind of an ass," he held onto the doorframe and took a careful step, "lawyers are lame… I'm not that lame, right?"

"You're not lame, Alex." I convinced him.

"You'd tell me?"

"I'd definitely tell you… So this boring asshole lawyer couldn't convince you to go home with him? It _must_ have gone badly."

"Shut up," he teased and grinned dopily at me.

"You need to go to bed."

He stumbled and took my hand, pulling me forward counterbalancing him falling backwards, "come with me."

"Alex…" I sighed.

"John, come on, you're so comfy, the other night… was the best. Cuddle me?"

I relented and let him pull me across the hall into his room. He stepped out of his shoes and let his nice jeans fall to the ground while he unbuttoned his shirt. I sat on his bed and looked anywhere but at him, he flopped into the bed next to me and grabbed me by the waist, tucking me against his side. We'd been in our underwear together loads of times over the years, most of the time when we shared a cramped dorm, but his boxers and tank top felt so much more exposing than my tshirt and thin sleep pants.

"So, this lawyer getting a second date?" I asked, pulling his hair down from its messy bun.

I added the hair tie to the collection on my wrist and rubbed his scalp.

"Probably not. He's loaded, though, kept buying me drinks… I think… I think I let him down, but I didn't want to go home with him. The idea of just coming home and falling into bed and cuddling up with you… that shit sounded so much better. Why didn't you go out? It's Friday night."

"No one I want to go out with." I shrugged and pressed my cheek against his bare shoulder.

"I thought there was Tinder guy."

"Nah…" I snuggled tighter into Alex, and freed my hand from his hair, my finger traced the straps of his tank top, fingering the bare skin of his shoulder blade.

"You could at least have gone out. I don't want you to miss out on stuff." He stretched and groaned, I guessed that from his vantage point the room was spinning.

"I'm not missing out, but, damn, look at you, you've got a little streak of college John Laurens showing."

"Don't judge me." He laughed, hand climbing under the back of my shirt, the alcohol made him even warmer, his hand burned against my back, I became aware of how clammy I felt and tensed just slightly.

"I'm not judging, I'm kind of proud, really. So what did rich, lawyer guy get you all messy drunk on?"

"Rum… then tequila."

"Oh, man, you're gonna be so dead tomorrow."

"I know. Do you have plans tomorrow?"

"Space Jam and takeout?"

"I'm down."

He flattened his hand against my bare back, scooping me in tighter and I fell asleep listening to the soothing rhythm of him snoring.

In the morning I woke up to him standing at his closet, wet hair dripping down his slender back, a towel wrapped low on his hips. I rustled in the sheets and cleared my throat to let him know I was awake.

"Hey." I wiped my face and sat up.

He looked over his shoulder and grinned, "oh, hey, you're up, sorry, didn't mean to bother you."

"All good, I'm gonna go out to the living room, let you get dressed."

"Cool, I'll be out in a minute."

I stole a final glance at him and left his room, curling up on our sofa in the living room, wrapping myself in the throw blanket. He came out of his room in a hoodie and sweatpants, wet hair tossed up high on his head. He flopped on top of me on the couch and wriggled into the blanket.

"Hi." I wheezed out with a chuckle.

"Shh… less talking, more napping." he dropped his ear to my chest.

"How's your head?"

"John… less talking."

"Have you taken anything?"

"Aspirin… shh…"

I propped my phone up on his back and scrolled through Instagram. He tapped a quick, constant beat on my shoulder with his fingers, I recognized it as my own excited heartbeat. He quickly fell asleep on me. Caught up on Instagram, I switched over to Tinder and sighed in dejection as I found more average guys, data analysts, chiropractors, shift leads at Chipotle… no one I wanted. Maybe there would never be someone I wanted.

Alex shifted and slid over my body, tucking into the crack where the seat met the back of the couch, pushing me closer to the edge. I put my phone to sleep and rolled into him. I watched him sleep and closed my eyes.

Time lost meaning as we lie together on the couch. Him sleeping, me dozing, both of us warm and safe under the blankets happy to ignore the world outside. The sounds of the streets were a busy whirl of Saturday traffic. He moaned quietly and kicked his leg between mine, our hips pressed together in the cramped space of the couch. I breathed deliberately, aware of our proximity. Alex's hand was at the back of my neck, he pulled my head down and quicker that I could acknowledge, his lips found mine.

Like the rest of him, they were warm and soft, framed in roughness by his goatee. I kissed him back and he licked into my mouth. I moaned into him and my tongue found his, the wet softness sent sparks through my body. Each movement of his lips, each tiny breath ghosting against my tongue, spiralled me deeper. I forgot to breathe until my lungs burned. He pulled away and we stared into each other's eyes.

"I'm sorry," he blinked, "I don't know what I was thinking, I'm so sorry, John."

I blinked back at him, catching my breath, "did you like it?"

"What?"

"Kissing me… did you like it?"

"Um… yeah, I-I did."

"Would you like to do it again?"

He nodded, "yes, please."

I hooked my finger under his chin and pulled him closer, our lips meeting, the only sound in our apartment was the sounds of our kiss, the gently smacks, tiny suckling noises as he pulled my bottom lip into his mouth. He took my hip in his hand and squeezed it tightly. I gasped into his mouth and licked into him, his tongue ran across my own, I shuddered and moaned into him.

It was in this moment that I realized how many times I'd fantasized about this moment, about what he would taste like, about how soft his mouth would be. How many nights he'd crept into my fantasies, each time that he cooked dinner in just sweatpants that I'd imagined coming up behind him and wrapping my arms around his broad chest.

"Alex." I moaned his name, mostly to make sure that this moment was real.

His hand climbed under the back of my shirt again and he panted my name. Our kisses stayed the course, hands exploring each other's chests and back and hips. He kept the contact of our hips, latching his leg behind mine. His chest heaved against mine, and my swollen lips felt sore and tired, we broke loose of each other and stared at one another in the small gap between our faces.

"What's happening, Alex?" I frowned, the fear of the intensity of what we'd done hurtling toward my consciousness.

He grinned out of half of his mouth and swept my hair back, "what should have years ago."

"What?" I wrinkled my nose at him.

"How many guys?" he sighed and tugged at a curl, pulling it straight, letting it spring back around my face, "how many guys have we been with? We've been with them, come home to each other, had our _fun_ with them and come home to each other, make dinner for each other, spend time with each other, eat ice cream and binge watch Game of Thrones with each other. It's always been you, Jack, always."

"No…" sadness clawed at me, at the thought of the wasted years, ignoring what was in front of my face the whole time, "no, Alex, you don't really…"

"Love you? I do, I always have. It's why I stay up to make sure you get home safe, it's why I never eat the last yogurt, why I always try and dry the towels right before you take a shower."

I grinned at him, "warm towels _are_ nice… I always just thought it was on accident."

"Never. It's all because I love you."

"I love you, too. I thought I was just jealous because you're my best friend, but like when I'd see you with other guys… or girls, it… I was jealous."

"And it's cute." He kissed the tip of my nose.

"But Thomas is gonna call you again." I accepted the defeat of just being a placeholder.

"Let him. Let the phone ring off the hook. There's nothing he can give me that's better than you."

"Nice shit."

"He has a velvet sofa. Who the fuck has a velvet sofa?"

"But ours is shitty." I toed the rip in the stained fabric.

"No, ours is hauling it up six flights of stairs into our dorm, the dollars of change we shook out of it to try and scrape together enough to go out to the bar across from campus, hauling it back out in the rain, dropping it on the concrete when we were moving in here, the bowl of chili you spilled on the arm when you got excited during the basketball finals two years ago, the ink on the middle seat from when my pen exploded. It's not shitty, it's our lives."

"Dammit, Alexander," I sighed and stroked his flank, "you and your stupid words always making me feel shit."

"I got skills." He quirked an eyebrow and leaned in to kiss me again.

I closed my eyes into the magic of the electricity of his kiss and melted into his body, he sucked at my tender lip again, the pain making me giggle lightly, he pulled back.

"You're the first guy who's ever laughed when I kissed him." He eyes crinkled in the corners from his grin.

"Sorry," I said sheepishly.

"I've been waiting for a guy to laugh. I've been waiting for a guy I can make laugh in bed."

"I've never laughed…"

"We'll see." His grin turned wolfish.

I rolled my eyes and kissed him again, unable to hold back the giggle that slipped out. He moaned into my mouth and gripped me tighter. I licked into his mouth, the sweetness of his tongue as it reached for my own, his hands were in my hair, gentle and casual even as his mouth worked against mine with more intensity.

"I love you." He broke us apart to tell me.

"I love you, too, Alex."

"I've always thought you were cute."

"Yeah? I mean, we do cute stuff together, that's like a best friend thing."

"Okay…" he twisted a section of my hair, "I've always thought you were sexy."

"No,"

"Yeah."

"Really?"

"Oh, God, yeah, John, how have you never noticed before?"

"Because I'm dumb?" I laughed.

"Well knock that shit off. I want you to notice it now. I want you to notice how I watch you, how sexy I think you are."

I grinned at him, "okay."

His stomach growled between us and I laughed, tucking my hand onto his belly, "ready for that takeout yet?"

"Definitely." He smirked.

We spent the rest of the night watching bad tv and sharing bites of Chinese food on our stained, broken in couch, each occupying an arm of it, legs tangled together in the middle, toes occasionally rubbing over the back of the other's calves, leaning in to steal tiny kisses, still best friends, but finally able to acknowledge that we'd always been so much more.


	4. Chapter 4

**Well, this one was fun to write, got some period action for you. I haven't tried my hand at actually writing the boys in the Revolution, so here is a smutty dabble drabble. Thank you so much for reading!**

* * *

Gibbs stood up and stacked his receipts neatly into his letter box and picked up his candle, "Hamilton, Laurens, always so eager to work into the night."

I looked up at him and smiled, "we work until the work is done, Gibbs."

I dipped my quill in ink and copied the next line of the letter that I'd written in the hand of Washington.

"Well, goodnight, gentlemen." He laughed me off.

"'Night, Gibbs." John ducked his head.

Gibbs disappeared through the doorway and made his way up the creaky steps to the room he was sharing with someone else in Washington's military family. The great room was now empty, the master of the house long retired, our lamp burned low and cast long shadows around the room. John shifted on the bench next to me, bones in his back popping, he yawned widely and dropped his quill back to the page, copying another letter I'd drafted for the General, his hand was heavier and less precise than my own.

"You're tired." I commented, continuing my writing.

"We all are. We're fighting a war."

"And, my dear boy, you fight it with the passion that few others can muster, you have more right to be tired than any man on the soil of this land."

I heard him breath a small laugh as he dipped his quill back in the inkwell. I wrote still, ignoring the cramp in my hand, it never let me alone, dare I say it gave me difficulty in articulating with my rifle. I felt John's shin climb across the back of my calf and cleared my throat. He laughed that same quiet, heavy breath and his leg was gone from mine. The bench creaked as he fidgeted, his toes now bare, save for their stockings played at the back of my ankle at the edge of the leather of my shoes.

"Laurens, are you through with that letter?" I whispered.

"Nearly, it isn't my fault that certain authors lack the skill of brevity."

"It has seemed that a lack of brevity is not always your complaint, for I recall multiple occasions with which stamina and endurance have been your compliments." I looked at him out of the corner of my eye and saw his freckles burn with a blush in the lamplight.

We worked in silence until he was finished copying the letter, I was long done and had moved on to a new project for the general. Laurens shoved his papers into his letterbox and grinned at me wolfishly. I took my time in neatly packing my things for the next day when we would take our work back up.

"Ham, come with me to the creek, I am a wretched, dirty thing." Laurens pleaded with me.

"I do not disagree with such observations." I winked at him.

His lips curled up and he rolled his eyes in their sockets, "you slink quietly about, it is in our best interest if you retrieve our packs from our room."

I nodded and crept up the stairs, watching him pull his shoe back on. The sounds of the family snoring in their beds filled the house and drowned out my movements, I made it into the tight room that had been declared mine and John's. It was cramped, the lady of the house apologized for the lack of privacy that the small room afforded, we assured her casually that it was no matter, though Laurens and I admitted to each other that the privacy was a work of divine inspiration.

With the packs slung crosswise around my trunk I slipped through the cacophonous house back to where Laurens waited for me. He watched me dismount the stairs and shouldered his own pack when I handed it to him. Once we were outside and past the first row of tents we permitted our voices to rise to a conversational volume. The creek was a pleasant walk from the house, safe from enemy territory - not that John minded either way - but still far enough away to be unseen by our own men as we bathed ourselves… each other.

At the edge of the water we stripped ourselves bare, setting our shoes among the roots under a willow tree and waded with our armfuls of clothing into the water. There was a smooth rock jutting above the water, we sat ourselves on it and made our clothing damp. John dug into his bar of soap with his thumbnail and worked the shavings to a froth before handing the bar to me.

I put my stocking under the water and rubbed at the soles, laughing to myself, "Laurens, you fool."

"What have I done?" He asked me as he meticulously scrubbed the fabric of his stockings against itself.

"I was recalling your opinion that white clothing is the easiest to keep pristine... you're a fool."

"It is a part of my charm, though. I hold that opinion strongly, with white clothing, there isn't concern or question about the cleanliness of the garment."

"But under most circumstances, they can never be completely white after a time has passed."

"You need to learn better washing." He teased.

"I'm fine at washing." I argued back.

"You're fine at many tasks, Alexander, washing is one that perhaps you should defer to me for."

"Then you may do my washing as well." I handed him back the bar of soap and splashed into the creek, dunking my body.

John watched me with his lips pursed and fired off banter, "only for you, dear girl."

"'Dear, girl,' bah, you're the one doing the washing. Hurry up, I wish to take you in my arms here in this creek."

He glowered at me, but I noticed him take up speed in doing the washing as he moved on to my breeches. Once it was all finished, he took the armful of clothing to the shore and hung it over the skeleton of a dead tree. He joined me in the water and handed me the soap back, tipping his head back to dampen his curls. I broke a corner of the soap off in my hands and gave him back the bar, working the fragment in my hands into a lather before burying my fingers into his hair. He moaned in ecstasy as I massaged his scalp. I inspected it carefully in the moonlight, looking for lice and other parasites that were common among the barracks. With his back to me as I washed his hair, I was afforded access to kiss his neck, thick and strong, I found the artery under his ear and suckled at it.

John ducked beneath the water to rinse his hair and repeated the actions for me, he scratched at the flaky skin on my scalp that nearly always burned and reacted from the caustic soap. I sighed as he ran his fingers through my hair. We each washed ourselves and then stood in the creek at the deepest part, water up to our chests and looked at each other.

I leaned into him and took him by the waist against me, meeting our mouths in a kiss. He licked at my own mouth and I tasted his sweet flavour. He pressed our bodies together passionately and kissed me harder, the speed increasing the longer we stood in the creek together.

"We should go back and retire." I told him, my hand on his chest.

"We should stay here." he countered.

"Jack, it will serve us no boon to be found engaging in such acts in the middle of a creek."

"It will serve us no boon to be found engaging in such acts from your howling." he countered.

I felt heat rise to my face at the memory of the times that John had shoved his fingers in my mouth to keep me quiet.

"Then what is your suggestion?" I stood my ground, foolish though it may have been.

"Our cot is softer than the ground and it is warmer inside by the fire. I relent to you, Alexander, as I always do. We will go back and retire, and I will gag you with your own stockings if I have to."

"If you'd only sworn that under oath." I grinned, staring at his creamy skin in the blue moonlight.

"Is this a fantasy that has brought you pleasure previously?" He asked, wading back through the creek.

"Not predating this moment, but you have my word that it shall be."

I stood on the shore and shook myself like a dog, pressing the water from my hair in my fists. I didn't like how the caustic soap made it feel - stringy and straw like. John seemed unbothered by it. We dressed in hunting shirts which hung to our knees, and back into our shoes, carrying our damp clothing against ourselves.

The standing patrol acknowledged us, likely envious that we had had the opportunity to make ourselves clean. Once inside our lodging house we crept up the stairs, Laurens finding every loose board in the house, making each step as loud as possible. My movements were deft and agile, silent. We pulled the plank door of our room shut to afford a little blessed privacy.

John stoked the coals to life while I hung our clothing before the mantle. The fire roared softly and I was grateful for any noise that it offered to conceal our actions. Our cot was small, too small to comfortably fit two grown men, but with our limited supplies we all made due. Even men without mine and John's proclivity to bed with another man found themselves eager to share in the comfort and warmth of another soul.

Laurens was first to initiate our tryst. His fingers sought the hem of my hunting shirt, he hitched it over my hips and felt my body, sharp and hard from use and hunger. His fingers, calloused and rough teased at the flesh of my manhood, I stirred and leaned back against him. He continued to stroke me, arousing me.

I sighed and he whispered in my ear, "be quiet, lover."

At his words I nodded and reached back to pull his lips toward my neck. He suckled the flesh, careful to only marr the flesh below the covering of my uniform, which left bruises on the surprisingly erogenous spots of my shoulder blades.

He spat into his hand and split the flesh of my seat. I arched against him at the burning press of his fingers.

"When this war is over and we're home in our country and I bed you we'll have the finest oils. I hate hurting you." He whispered in my ear.

"Laurens, there is no bedding each other after the war. Once we live the lives of simple men we must take wives and be men, not the aberrations of pleasures of the flesh that the war has allowed us to become." I reminded him.

"Hamilton, doesn't this seem an inappropriate occasion to discuss such matters?" His fingers pressed deep within me and panted.

"Perhaps you are right, pet." I gasped and clutched at him through the rough patchwork blanket we'd been provided.

"Aren't I always?" He growled in my ear.

I panted, trying to stay silent, "to this… I cannot… concede."

His fingers twisted, the digits finding new spots of pleasure to take advantage of, his chest heaved against my spine, "Alexander, I must have you."

"Then have me." I drew my knee against my body and heard him spit again.

The press of his manhood was the sear of fingers on a hot kettle, I bit down around nothing but my own teeth and whimpered at the stretch of my body to accommodate his.

"Are you alright, pet?" He asked.

I nodded, not willing to trust my voice for speech, he pressed himself further, until he reached the hilt and stayed sheathed in me until I writhed before him.

"John." I whispered, trying to be silent, knowing what would happen if anyone else were woken up by us.

His tongue traced the back of my ear before he nipped the outer shell. I pressed my face into the bend of my elbow to silence myself and he worked his body in staccato motions, my own body relenting around him. The competing roughness of him inside me and the straw barely hewn into the cot below us warred with the tenderness of his breath against my shoulder and his hand picking up my own and pressing the knuckles to his lips.

He motions grew faster, a small creak sounded from our cot with every thrust he made, the stability of pistons in a steam engine. I wrapped his arm around me and bit down on his wrist to keep from crying out his precious name. His heat leaked inside me and I gasped around the filling sensation. His sweaty brow came to rest against my shoulder and he moved his hand to my manhood again. My eyes rolled back in my skull at his touch and a small moan chased out of my mouth.

"Be quiet." He demanded in a breath in my ear.

I rolled to face him in the tiny cot and clamped my teeth against each other and his breath stroked my ear again, "Hamilton, compose yourself before we are found."

I nodded and kissed him to shut myself up. My climax was urgent, throbbing in his hand, tongue against his. He licked into my mouth a final time and removed his hand, licking his fingers clean. My body shuddered at the sight and I kissed my taste out of his mouth.

"You slay me again, dear boy." I whispered into his ear.

"It is resolutely my pleasure."

"How many words must I use before you understand my love for you?"

"At least a thousand more if they are as pretty as the words you write for the general."

"Those words are but correspondence. The words I use on you are private and betray my affections."

"Then at least another thousand after it, if only to hear you speak them to me." His nose brushed against my collarbone.

I moved down in the cot and dropped my brow against his shoulder, "Laurens, I do believe that you and our dear Marquis are my only comfort against this wretched world."

He hands raked through my hair, "but do you know our dear Marquis as you know me?"

I breathed a soft laugh, "I know him as you know him, and as we all know each other, he is good company, dear boy, but any company I keep pales against you."

"And you should know, with as much company you keep."

"You are often indisposed, I must keep company somewhere."

"How many bastards do you reckon you've encumbered the ladies with."

"None." I argued.

"And you know this how?"

"I reckon that I do not know, but I believe it to be so in that only do I peak in your arms."

"Is that so?"

"Perhaps." I smirked at him, his face glowing in the flickering light of the fireplace.

"Perhaps." He repeated.

"Good night, Jack."

"Good night, Ham." He kissed my jaw a final time and rolled over to make himself comfortable, letting me embrace him and mold my body to his.


	5. Chapter 5

**This drabble is for ImmigrantPhenomenon on AO3, it's a modern AU. John's been gone for a long time, here is his and Alexander's reunion.**

* * *

"I didn't think you were coming back." I cried in his arms.

"Of course I came back. I promised you didn't I? Didn't I say, 'Alex, no matter what happens, no matter what I have to do, I'm coming home to you'? " He stroked my hair and let me cry.

"You did, but, God, when I heard about your battalion…" I cried harder, holding him tighter, smelling his comforting scent.

"Shh… baby, it's okay, I'm home. I'm home."

"What was it like?" I asked him.

"Which part?"

"When you were… prisoner? Kidnapped? Hostage? I don't know what word to use."

"It doesn't matter. I have better stuff to talk about. Like you."

I nodded, understanding that he didn't want to relive the horrible things that he'd been through.

"I like your hair longer like this." I wrapped a piece around my fingers.

"No barbers in the caves." He smiled half-heartedly.

"Just goes to show how long you were in there." My tears flowed again.

"Shh… Alex, Alex, it's okay. Tell me more about... about what I've missed."

"Um… Whole Foods has fucking taken over, um, everyone died in 2016, Prince, David Bowie, Alan Rickman, Carrie Fisher, uh, Kanye's still Kanye. I don't know…"

"Tell me about what I missed with you, 'Lex."

"I… well… I moved down to Hell's Kitchen to be closer to work, it was really hard to let our place go, but, I did. You were like a ghost in there. I… met a girl."

"Yeah?" His hand stopped its journey up my back.

"Yeah, I love her, but she's always just been a placeholder for you. I didn't even mean to meet her, but she's wonderful."

"Then what are you doing here?" John asked.

I pulled the blanket over my bare chest defensively, feeling exposed, "John, when you came home, a part of me came home. I've been looking for someone shaped even kind of like the hole you left in me when you disappeared, and she's like a tamponade, she's gentle and kind like you are, Jack, she's smart, she's loyal like you… more than I am, I guess, but you're home."

"Alexander… this girl, how long have you been with her? What's her name?"

"Eliza… almost a year and a half."

"You should go to her then. I'll be okay."

"No! No, no, no." I clutched him, feeling my head spin, and my body grow hot and anxious at even the prospect of losing him again.

"Alex," he kissed the top of my head and threaded our naked legs together, "it's okay, you moved on. I was declared dead, I mean, I can't blame you for moving on, I'm glad you did. I know it must have been hard for you."

"It was the worst. I… Hercules had an almost full blown intervention for me. I finally started living again and then a year later you're home, I don't know what to do with… I don't know what to do."

"I'm sorry I wasn't here for you, I'm sorry I'm the reason you were hurting."

"You can't blame yourself, John."

"No. I don't, not really. But I'll always feel bad."

"It's okay, you're home, and you're with me."

"But, what about Eliza? She's important to you."

"I know, but you're you," tears rolled hotly down my cheeks, "you don't have to go back, do you?"

He kissed my head again, "no, babe, never, discharged with full honours, whole nine yards, all sorts of stupid medals coming my way. My shoulder's way too fucked up to let me back out there."

"From when you got shot."

"Three times, couldn't keep my ass down." He grinned.

I clutched him to me, hating him talking like that, "I still don't know why you enlisted."

"Do the right thing, I guess, make people proud,"

"I've always been proud of you."

"I know you have, Alex. God, it's good to be home," he smelled my hair and I watched tears gather in the corners of his eyes again, "I used to pray every night, there was this tiny, tiny little crevice I could just barely see the sky through, I'd look up and find a star at night and just take comfort knowing that you would see the same star the next day. I'd look up through that crack and I'd pray, 'God, just let me see my baby one more time. Let me just go home to my Alex.'"

"Your prayers got answered… mine did, too."

"I know you're still a cynic." He brushed my hair behind my ear.

"I am."

"My prayers were to see you one more time. It can just be that, be this. One last glorious day in my hotel with you. I got to see you again. This one day was worth a thousand in any cave."

"John… no, I don't want that. I can't lose you again."

"Alex, you haven't seen me in four years, that's almost as long as we were together."

"I don't care. I want you. You're all I want, all I've ever wanted." I kissed him like a memory, our mouths anticipating what came next, a step ahead of each other.

I fogged into the kiss, heady and strong, my mind blurred, becoming nothing but sensations. Him, warm and close to me, our naked bodies against each other. He was so skinny, but nothing else had changed, he was still my John. Memories of our last night together flooded me, how tightly I'd held him, pleading with the universe not to take him, to let him stay by my side, sure that I'd never see him again. I knew John, I knew that once he was deployed he'd do something stupid and get himself killed, or stuck in a cave without anyone else knowing about it.

He pulled back and bit his lip, "Alex, this isn't right. You have this girl, she loves you, I'm sure, who could not love you? You shouldn't be here."

I sniffled, my nose stuffy from how much I'd cried today in his hotel room, my face was sticky from all of my dried tears, "I don't care."

"I know you don't, but this isn't right to her. I'm sure you care about her, too."

"Well, of course I do, but John, we had a life together, we were planning our future," I sniffled again and rested my cheek against his chest, I couldn't bear to look at him, "don't you remember? We were going to have babies that look like you."

His hands were in my hair, "I remember, Alex, of course, I remember, that's what got me home, that's what kept me alive. Knowing that halfway across the world, the most beautiful man God created wanted to have a life with me…" his voice shook, "and I think… I think I knew that you probably moved on, I wanted you to. To be happy, to live a good life, but I always kept that memory. That idea."

"I didn't move on, though, John. I just made it work, I've been so lonely… lonely for you."

He lost his composure and cried against my hair, "I'm sorry… I'm so sorry I did this to you, 'Lex."

I reached up to stroke his face, to dry his tears, "you didn't _do_ anything. You went to war… you did it John Laurens style. Obviously, this kind of shit would happen."

"I should have been more careful. For you. I…" he blew out a breath, "after we lost that squadron in the car bomb, I, fuck, I had like, survivor's guilt, I should have been in that van, I should have been blown up, my best men, my best friends, they died that day. I was supposed to have been in that van, it was chance, I was right behind them. I saw them die."

I nodded, staying silent, letting him volunteer whatever information he wanted me to know.

"There was this guy, French guy, he was my best friend over there, we called him the Marquis, he just had this air about him. He was younger than all of us, I took him under my wing, I guess, and he died in my arms that day. He's the one who told me about the cave. He told me that when they'd been out on recon earlier that week they'd seen it. Seen people coming and going. I demanded that we check it out. Y'know, for the Marquis, like if we could just take that base, I could avenge him or some shit. We got there and it was devastating, the losses, they saw us coming a mile away. I'm it, Alex, I'm the only man in my whole battalion left standing. I _was_ reckless, I was, but it was for my friend, and I'm so sorry that I was thinking more of him than I was of you."

"John, I'm so sorry that happened. It's okay, it's okay, you've always been a good friend. I remember you writing about him in your letters. He seemed like a good friend to you, too."

John sniffed and nodded, "he was."

We lie there silently, watching the shadows on the wall get longer. I traced his freckles, sure that he had even more than when he left.

"Do you still want me?" I couldn't make my voice louder than a whisper.

"Always, Alexander. I will always want you. More than that, though, I want you to be happy. I can't waltz in after four years, almost three of them spent being dead and just have the life I left. I know that. I don't ask that of you."

"But I want you, too."

"I know you do."

"Eliza used to pray for you, too. She's really god fearing, just like you. I think I made her love you, too."

"Yeah?"

"Oh, yeah. I talked about you constantly. Tried to make it like you were there with us."

"God, Alex, you're so creepy." He giggled, teasing me.

"I know, but you were never just a ghost to me. I kept you with me always. I'd talk to you at the grocery store, do you know how long it took me to stop buying peaches?"

"You hate peaches."

"But you love them, it was instinctive, 'oh, I bet John wants some peaches,' and I'd get them and they'd rot, and I'd get more. Once they'd told me you were gone, I talked to you even more, constantly, like I do, I talked your ear off. Up late nights with a cup of coffee just telling you about my life and what was happening and I'd almost, like imagine what you'd say, and just keep talking to you. I never told people you were dead. I'd just tell them you were overseas and I wasn't sure when you were coming home. Eliza was the first person I told. I think she always knew that if you ever really did come home it was over."

"That's not fair to her."

"And is me being with her and wishing that it was you fair? We don't even live together, John. You and I lived together. What's four years, really? We're only twenty-five. We still have our whole lives ahead of us."

"I know, I guess you're right."

"I still want the life we were making. I still want the babies that look like you. I still want to move out of the city and live a quiet life together."

"Alex, I'm a little fucked up. I'm different. I'm fucked up."

"I know. You couldn't come back the same. It wouldn't be possible, I don't care. I love you no matter what that cave, what war, did to you, you're still my John. I pick you. Come home, John. With me. Come home. I'll tell Eliza, she'll get it. Come home, don't let me waste any more time without you."

He bit his chapped lip and nodded, "you're sure?"

"I've never been more sure about anything in my life, John Laurens. It's always been you."


	6. Chapter 6

**Hey, I made y'all a thing. Hope you enjoy. This bit is a standalone. Thank you so much for reading and leaving reviews, they really mean the world to me.**

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"Ham?" His voice cut through my thoughts.

"Yes?" I finished the line over the letter that I was working on.

"Did you hear me?" He leaned over the desk.

"No, my apologies."

"I suggested that we bed down for the night. We move again at dawn. Rest would benefit us."

I looked at him in the dying candle; he was fair, his hair tied back save for an errant curl, still in full dress, the hint of a grin on his full lips, the colour of swollen, ripe berries.

"I suppose that is wise." I conceded.

We moved through the house that his excellency's military family was lodging in to the quarters provided to us. Each of the aides were paired in rooms, Laurens and I were again partnered. Our friendship and matching work ethics making us a good pair, even though proximity had been to blame for my taking notice of his finer features.

I packed my things away to prepare for the ride at daybreak and dressed down to my stockings and hunting shirt, neatly draping my other clothing for the morning while Laurens did the same. I became aware of the cold that had crept into the countryside over the last few days, knowing that we were in for a hard winter. I was distracted at the sight of the arch of his back while he bent to pull off his breeches and licked my lips before shaking my head of the thoughts. The thoughts which had become so intrusive over the last few weeks. The thoughts that were far too impure for someone of my rank to possess.

The war was bloodthirsty and companionship was vital to morale. The camaraderie of war is intimacy in and of itself, but a type of intimacy that one should not confuse for another. Intimacy, or the mockery of intimacy, that was so prevalent back home in my now waterlogged little island. That island was a refuge for miscreants and a safe haven for sinners, bearing witness to indecency could hardly make me blush, but what about fantasizing the imitation of such indecency? Certainly that was a new sin of its own.

"Ham, dearest, you seem far away tonight. What weighs on your brow?" Laurens was already in his bed roll on our cramped, shared cot, he beckoned me with his light eyes, flecks of gold glittering in the candlelight.

I swallowed hard to answer him, "I… I'm unsure precisely what plagues me."

"Come to bed. Ease your mind." He looked at the space beside him.

I slid into my bedroll next to him and sighed at the softness of the grass bound in the cot underneath us, feeling the tightness in my back carried from long days bent over a writing desk and an equal amount of days on horseback loosen.

"Good night, dear boy." I acknowledged him and did my best to ignore the inviting heat of his body beside me.

"Hmm," he sighed, fatigue in his voice, "good night, Ham."

I rolled away from him and drew the blanket tighter over me, refusing to accept the shivers in my bones. He was behind me, rolled to his side, echoing my position. He pressed his body against me, warm enough I thought that I might burn.

I breathed out a laugh, "I hardly think that it is so cold so soon, Jackie."

"I'm hardly concerned by the cold."

His breath was hot in my ear, I shivered.

"Perhaps it is you who should be concerned by the cold." His soft laughter was the chime of a delicate silver bell.

"If that is not the cause, then what is?" I asked.

"Desire."

"You speak foolishness to me, my friend."

"Why do you suggest this?"

"Desire?"

His arm draped over my waist and my breath caught. I liked being so close to him. I liked feeling the warmth of him against me, the beat of his heart vibrating my spine like a catgut. I kept myself rigid, not wanting to accept his touch.

"Certainly. You desire me as well, Ham. I see the way you steal glances, the way that you turn in toward me when you sleep. I desire nothing more than to know you in the way that the ladies you sneak around behind his excellency's back know you."

In the darkness I felt heat and colour crawl across my cheeks.

"And what if I do steal glances? Are they stolen if offered for free?"

He giggled into my back, "perhaps they are not free, they are purchased on the systems of credit that you so admire from the tomes that you ignore me for."

His lips hovered over my shoulder while he spoke, I worked hard to keep my voice even, "and this credit you speak of. How is it earned?"

"In… bliss and adulation."

"Adulation I can concede to, but bliss, my dearest, is that not better saved for our lady suitors? I am sure you take many… as do I… but certainly someone with endowments comparable to my own has no issue finding a fair girl?"

"No issues, but scant desire to match," he chuckled softly, "you would wish to make yourself familiar with the similarity of our endowments?"

"Scant desire? How is that?" I chose to ignore the rest of his speech.

"They are too delicate, men are not fragile, yet their beauty is limitless, hard in the spots where women are soft, harder even still in others. Women are fair, but I contend that I have seen men even fairer. I'll reiterate... I see how you look at me, Alexander."

I had battled thoughts not unlike his since boyhood, seeing so much debauchery on my island made it seem less like a sin, less like a crime. I enjoyed keeping the company of women, though. Perhaps the sinful fantasies that aroused my intrigue were less unique to my island than I had presumed.

His hand crept over my chest while I pondered this and stroked the bud of my nipple. I gasped first in shock, then in horror, then in intrigue. Denying the flicker that it drew in my belly, I shoved his hand away.

"What, that you would bed me as a woman to supplicate the absence of your natural desires?"

He coiled his fingers around my own and ignored the harshness of my words toward him, "my summation is that you are only incensed by the shame in your own pleasure."

I thought about it, "and…"

"Let me incense you in a refreshing manner."

"But, John," I stopped him.

"Alexander, give in. You're the closest friend I've got, but, Alex, you're so much more, too. You're beautiful and intelligent beyond compare, your talents in the artillery will go down in history. I admire you, I love you, dear boy, as would any wise man… wise woman. Think not of the future now, think only of this moment."

"You shower me with praise and stroke my ego." I rolled to face him.

His face in the moonlight was bewitching, it split in two with a grin, "I'll keep more than your ego stroked."

"I doubt this not one bit." I smiled and let him wrap his arms around me the way that I had done with pretty girls and kiss me.

His kiss was soft and gentle, but so unique from any before it, and I was certain, any after it. His hands ran over my body and again back to my nipples, this time his hand reached under the hem of my shirt, over my bare hip. He rolled and pinched them until they grew hard between his fingers. I couldn't stop the pants that spilled from my heaving chest below his hand.

"This is…" I shook my head.

"An erogenous area of the human body." He answered me and then quieted me from words I hadn't had a chance to speak with his kiss.

I opened my mouth to him, desperation filling me, swelling me. He licked into my waiting mouth and I immeshed my tongue with his. His fingers still maintained their efforts and left me at attention and writhing.

"Jack, dear boy, what are you doing to me?"

"Pleasuring you, my love. No longer concerned with demonstrating the restraint I've had to during the whole of our assignment."

"The duration?" I looked up at him, still aware of my face twisting with pleasure.

"Every moment." He agreed and kissed me once more, his fingers trailed down from my chest to my hip and finally to my manhood.

"What does our dear Marquis know of this?" I hissed in a whisper as his finger wrapped around the shaft.

"It is when I'm touching you that you wonder about this?" He smirked.

"I don't mean… I simply, is he privy to your… deviance?"

"Deviance? I favour the word preference. You'll be better served if you delay thoughts of our Marquis and of fire and brimstone."

"Does anyone know?" my eyes rolled up in their sockets as I panted out the words.

"Only you and I." He assured me gently, his words echoed in his hot breath ghosting at my throat.

"Laurens," I mumbled into his mouth, my legs tightening at his touch as he stroked me.

"Alexander, the beauty of the reality of this moment far surpasses any of my imaginings." He kissed my neck.

"I've wanted you." I confirmed.

"I know."

"You're cocky."

"I know." He ground his body against me, letting me feel his own arousal.

I gasped at the feeling of his member and he pulled at my hunting shirt, I quickly shucked it and his hand left me only long enough to remove his own.

He changed pace and I wondered if he was touching me as he touched himself… or other men. Light and colour filled my mind, so vibrant that I feared that they would spring from my eyes should I find the will to lift my lids. There was only the slick sound of him stroking me filling the room, soon coupled with my gasps of pleasure.

"John," I whispered and dropped my head to his shoulder.

"It's alright, dearest." He soothed, not breaking stride.

I spurted into his hand, my eyes shut tighty. It took everything within me not to cry for him.

"Perhaps I should follow you into artillery since it appears I know my way around ranged weapons." He lapped at the mess on my chest with his tongue and put my hand to his own stiffness.

I touched him as if it were my own, correction in my belief that they were of similar stature. John wrapped his arms around me again and whispered endearments into my ear, nipping intermittently at the soft flesh there.

"Alexander, your touch is even better than my hopes."

"It is my sole drive in this moment to make you feel as you've made me."

He hitched a leg over my own and sighed heavily as I stroked him faster.

"Alex," he gripped my shoulder hard.

"Yes, John, yes." I crooned to him, realizing just how badly and for how long I'd wanted to do this.

"Oh, Alexander, please, for God's sakes." He stared into my eyes, a deeper connection than I'd had with any woman.

He spent himself in my hand and sighed.

"Better than I imagined. Quicker, too." He kissed my cheek.

"Only you and I should be aware of what has transpired tonight." I bit down on my lip, shame burning my cheeks.

"And what will happen tomorrow." He smirked.

"Jack, we won't have privacy."

"Then it would serve us to be quiet."

"Do you… is it really your intent for this to continue?"

"I fear that my affections for you will only extinguish in death."

I rested my hand against his abdomen, "and perhaps not even then."

"Perhaps not even then."

"You are aware that we must be discreet, yes?"

"I am. You are aware that I believe in throwing caution to the wind?" He snickered.

"I am."

"You are not one to practice caution either. It is not me that we have mourned only to arrive in the midst of lamentation as if Christ himself, resurrected, had appeared soggy in our doorway. Just let this be enjoyable, Ham. My boy we are all busy dying, starving, scratching with pests, a little drink and a little sex is what this life provides to keep us true to course for this land and our freedom."

"I'm not scratching with pests. I keep my hair powdered and myself clean." I said proudly.

"Well, yes… as do I… but our military as a whole. The least we could do is imbibe in the pleasures provided for us."

"Then silence yourself and let me enjoy you. Is it not so that prattling on is _my_ domain?"

He smirked and tucked me against his breast, I nuzzled my face into the space where his shoulder met his chest and smelled the blend of caustic soap and his musk and felt myself settle.

"Good night, dearest."

"Our Marquis will know." I decided after a quiet moment.

"See, now you have reclaimed your title as the prattler. Rest easily knowing that you shall not be dethroned by me. How will he know? You will tell him?"

"He simply will. He'll infer it. I've watched you lie in alehouses over cards, you keep nothing concealed long, the flush of your cheeks, the twitch of your mouth betrays you."

"It's the ale that flushes me. You taking note of this is proof of your affections for me."

"As if me lying in your arms was not proof enough. Back to the matter at hand."

"If he knows, let him know. The French are notorious for… being all manner of folk. He will understand."

"He will detest us."

"And what is to detest?"

I sighed, combatting my desire to kiss John while he held me and the feelings of wretchedness at my desires.

"Our relations."

"Let me pull your mind from such matters."

"How do you intend to-" he left my side and was between my legs at once, taking my length between his lips. His lips that liked to smirk, that were full and as soft as I'd imagined.

As he hollowed his cheeks with suction I keened and gripped handfuls of his curls. Ladies never quite knew how to behave in this act, but John was skilled, no doubt emulating the actions that brought him the most satisfaction. I ran my toes over his thigh, enjoying the closeness.

"John." I whispered, feeling my legs tremble as though I'd been over a saddle for the day and with it many miles.

He continued but looked up at me through his thick lashes. I pulled tighter at his hair and released the breath I didn't know was being held and released with that breath, myself entirely. John slunk back up the creaking cot and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand.

"You taste like berries."

"Berries? I can't imagine that there is merit in that statement."

"It's true, plump, bittersweet blackberries on a vine."

I thought once more of his lips and watched as he licked me from them. Berries.

"I generally bear more stamina."

"But I reduce you." He smiled.

"You do."

"Good night, Jack."

"Good night, dear boy. It pleases me that our affections are known."

"As you please me?"

"So, too, do I find pleasure." He kissed the tip of my nose and allowed his eyes to flutter peacefully shut.


	7. Chapter 7

It was so wet, I gasped, my eyes stung. It was raining sideways and I couldn't see anything, my clothing weighed me down, I kicked my shoes off to swim better. I spluttered, trying to catch a breath. My brother was nowhere to be seen, I looked harder in the mist of rain on the ocean and went under again. Nowhere. Kicking, I made it to the surface again and held fast to furniture that floated near me, my lungs ached from the water residing inside them. My face was perpetually wet and stung from the salt and the gales of wind. I coughed to try and expel any of the water swallowed inside me. _James…_ I kicked my bare feet through the water, they were tangled with refuse below the surface. _Have to find James._

John was in the distance on a small boat, his curls haloed in golden light, he called to me, his voice the only placid thing in the midst of so much horror, "Alex, Alexander, babe, come back to me."

I shook my head and tried to scream back to him that I had to find my brother first. Nothing came out but choked sobs. I have to find him. I have to find him. I have to find him!

"Alex, baby, I'm here." John crouched in his boat, visoring his eyes with his hand to look at me, he was dry, still golden, angelic. He reached out to offer me his hand.

He was the angel coming to take me away. Away from my brother. I was dying and he was coming to take me. To take me back to my mother.

"No! No, I can't. I have to find my brother!"

 _James…_

"Alexander, babe, come on, I've got you." He took my hand.

I choked and sat up. Dark, dry, bed, John. I coughed again, sure that I would rid myself of sea water. My legs were wrapped fitfully in the blankets of our bed. John sat next to me, illuminated in the golden light from the lamp on his bedside table and brushed my hair back from my tear-sticky face. I gripped him for dear life, clinging to him was the same as clinging to reality.

"I didn't find him! John, I didn't, I didn't, I didn't." I sobbed into his chest, barely catching my breath.

John held me against him and rocked me like a child, "shh, it's okay, it's okay. Five things you see?"

"No. I didn't find him, it's my fault. He's gone and it's my fault. He's gone. I didn't. I didn't." I cried, letting my hair fall over my face.

"Alexander, five things, love." John gripped my shoulders and made me look at him.

I glared at him and looked around our dark bedroom, "clock, p-pill bottle, you, our w-wedding picture, bottle of water."

He wiped my face with a tissue, "that's excellent, lover, four things you feel."

"John, no," I tried to protest.

"Four things."

"Blankets are hot, your hand on on on my back, soft bed, t-shirt."

"Good, baby, three sounds."

"Talking, city, drip, the faucet's dripping again, dripping water."

"Okay, that's good, two smells." He rubbed my back and I tried to match the pace of my breathing with the motion, still convinced my lungs were filled with seawater.

"Your O-old Spice and laundry detergent."

"Beautiful. Taste?"

I searched his eyes frantically, I didn't taste anything. I kissed him, "c-cinnamon." I said breaking away from him.

"You did such a good job. Feel better?"

I panted, "a little bit."

He continued to hold me, rocking me in his arms, "that one was bad," he yawned and reached for the pill bottle on my nightstand.

"I'm sorry." I hid my face in my hands and felt how sloppy I was.

He shook out two pills and handed them to me, "don't ever apologize, Alex. You survived horrible things. You are entitled to your feelings, they are valid. I love you, you're good."

I swallowed them dry along with his words and tried to believe him, "fuck me, John?"

He pursed his lips and looked at me under worried brows, "Alex, we've talked about this."

"Please?" Tears hiccupped my voice, I was desperate for him.

"Alex," he started again, "you know as well as I do that you use sex to dissociate from your panic. It's not healthy, babe."

 _He didn't want me; didn't want broken, ugly, useless me._ I peered at him through my lashes and spat out my own self loathing, "you're not my fucking therapist, John. I'm not one of your patients."

I could see him try not to be hurt, forcing a smile, "and thank God for that. I get to be your husband instead."

"Then why don't you want me?" I pawed the tears away from my face, hating the water, the wetness, the salt.

"Alex, I want you, but when you're like this you don't want me, you want to not feel. I don't like feeling used any more than you like feeling unwanted."

I didn't believe him, the pit of my anxiety spoke in my voice inside my head, filling up the space in my skull, _he doesn't want you. How could he? Useless. Pathetic, so pathetic. So worthless. Nobody wants you._

I cried harder, wanting my mind to be silent. John wrapped his arms around me and sighed.

"Leave me." I pleaded.

"I never will."

"Leave me, you can't fix me. I know you thought you could. Like, you meet this guy in a club and you like him and you go home with him and you think it's great, he writes books, you're a therapist and you think you can be this power couple, but then you realize just how fucked up he is and that you can't fix him. You can't fix him. You can't fix me. It's your job and you can't do it. So leave me."

"It's not my job to fix you, it's my job to love you. I'm not your therapist, I'm your husband. I do that job well. I love you with all that I am, Alex."

"I am cancer, leave me, John."

"You are not cancer, you're my Alex, you're my love, I'm never going anywhere." I heard him sniff.

"I'm sorry I'm so broken. You're-you're a therapist, you see crazy people every day. Of course you don't want to come home to one. Leave me."

"You're not broken." His voice was so tender, his arms around me so gentle.

"Yes, I am! I just… I'm not yours to fix." I sounded hollow, empty.

He seethed, finally angry, "I don't want you _fixed!_ Goddammit, Alexander! I love you exactly as you are, I loved you the moment I saw you, I don't mind that you struggle, so do I! Sure, it's different, but everyone has struggles. We are the power couple, we have the dream life, so you have some mess. Who doesn't have mess? I love you."

I bent over myself and sobbed, clutching the covers to my chest, I cried openly, cried like a child.

John's hand was at my back again, his voice was tender and close to my ear, "it's been awhile since one of these happened. It's okay. We've talked about this, they'll come back now and then, we'll get you through them. It's not as bad as it used to be."

"I'm sorry." I sniffled.

"Shh… You're fine. I'm sorry, too."

"You didn't do anything wrong." I bent up to kiss him, _more cinnamon_. He relaxed into the kiss and I felt myself relax slightly, too. I reached between us and stroked him, he grew hard quickly at my touch, grunting and gasping into my hand.

"Can we?" I pleaded.

"Are you sure you want this?" He stared into my eyes and I nodded, brushing my stringy hair out of my face.

"I want you, John."

He slowly peeled our clothing away, tenderly kissing bare skin as he made it available, doting on me. He teased my entrance and took time readying me. One finger, one knuckle at a time, so delicate, so gentle. Opening me like I had the fragility of a China doll. He always took extra time when I was like this, unwilling to give me the satisfaction of pain, still trying to convince me of the lie that I didn't deserve it. That I especially didn't deserve it from him. I hurt him so often, so much, the least he could do was hurt me back.

"You ready, babe?" He asked, poising himself over me.

I nodded and started to flip over, he stopped me.

"No, no, just like this. I want to see you… see those pretty eyes." John told me.

"No, I'm hideous, my face is a goddamn mess." I coughed again, still sure of the seawater in my airways.

He held my chin and kissed me, "you're not hideous, you're beautiful, you're my husband and I love you."

My cheeks grew damp again, "I love you, too."

He wiped my tears and leaned back on his heels, "Alex, maybe this just isn't a good night."

"No," I snapped, "I mean, please, I… Please, John. I need you. Please, baby, please. I want you."

"Okay." He looked down at me pensively.

John lined himself up and entered me slowly, the lube taking almost all the sting away.

"Hard." I begged.

"Shh…" He petted my hair and rocked slowly, taking a deep breath and sighing.

I looked up at him as he stroked my cheek and moved in me, tears still falling. I gripped his arms, trying to convince him to speed up, to hurt me, to treat me like I deserved. Instead, he pried my fingers away and kissed my knuckles one by one.

My eyes fell shut, my world pulsing with colours with each of his thrusts. Empty, black, echoing, just feeling the friction of each movement. The sounds of my breathing rushed into my ears, flooding my consciousness.

"Alex," I could hear him far away through the rush of my breaths and ignored him, safe alone in the blackness. I knew he'd be upset that I was gone.

"Alexander, love, come back." The colours of his voice swirled in the blackness like spectres. I pushed them away and sat in the blackness by myself.

"Alex, baby, look at me."

James was next to me in the blackness. He looked at me, his skin blue and wrinkled, bloated and waterlogged, _don't do this to John, he loves you._ I gasped and opened my eyes, John was closer to me, his lips on my neck, still whispering to me to come back to him.

"I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to." I said again, reaching up to smooth his curls away.

He pulled away from my neck and looked into my eyes again. I stared up, meeting his gaze.

"There he is. You're okay." John whispered, that smirk that made me love him playing at his lips.

I gasped as he changed pace, speeding up just enough to let me know he was close and I wondered how long I'd been gone. I rocked back against him faster, meeting each thrust and came hot between us. He followed quickly after, a breathless chuckle on his lips, he pressed his sweaty forehead against my chest and I tipped his chin up to kiss his brow. Sometimes wet and salty was my favourite thing, I was aware of my fickleness.

He giggled at me as I licked my lips and pulled out, leaving our mess, just wanting the comfort of one another. I snuggled against him, his sweat slick skin growing cold in the air, I shivered and he wrapped me in our blankets. I felt filthy, from my crying and from our sex, and from the hand I'd been dealt in life, but in this moment I just felt him.

"I'm really tired." I told him.

"It's okay." John assured me, holding me tightly.

"I'm really heavy."

"It's the meds."

"I'm really sorry."

"Don't ever be." He yawned and squeezed me tighter still.

"How come I'm still like this?"

"It's trauma, babe. It's trauma."

I sighed, feeling the medication smooth me out, "will I get better?"

"You're much better than you were even last year, way better than five years ago."

"You really don't hate me?"

"Not even in the slightest." He kissed my temple.


	8. Chapter 8

**Birthday shout out to my dearest Paggers! Enjoy! Thank you all so much for reading.**

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I stretched and pulled John closer to me, leaving my arm draped across his belly. His bare skin was so warm, so soft. I dropped my chin against his freckled shoulder and placed a tiny kiss against his neck. He snuffled sleepily into my touch and lie himself flat and crooked in the middle of the bed. In the twilight of being half awake and half asleep everything was calm and perfect. Only our soft bed and love existed.

"You are awake, cher?" Lafayette whispered, tracing his fingertips over the arm I left across John.

I leaned up on my elbow and looked at him over our sleeping partner. Lafayette always looked so stunning in the mornings, hair wrapped under silk that matched his pajamas, his cheekbones the highlight of his visage, dark eyes framed like a stage by his thick lashes. John stirred, flexing to stretch and settling himself back into his slantwise position, his legs hooked over Lafayette's, his upper half against me. Lafayette mirrored my position.

"Morning, love." I grinned at him and moved my arm to twist my fingers through John's tangled curls.

"You slept well, no?" Lafayette played with John's hair along with me.

"I slept," I offered with a smirk and shushed John when I accidentally pulled a snag with my fingers, "what's on the docket today?"

"I am going to make breakfast for us soon, and then we will… I don't know… We will watch movies or play games." He dropped his hand from John's hair and placed it on his belly.

I picked up Lafayette's hand and stroked the back of it, "we'll think of something, I'm sure."

"It is just so unusual that the three of us share the same lazy day. The snow was such a gift." He pulled my hand to his lips and placed little kisses on each of my knuckles.

"It is." I agreed, smiling across John at him.

Lafayette bent over John's sleeping body and kissed me softly, even in the mornings he tasted like wine and cloves and pomegranates. I sighed into his kiss, savouring John's warmth between us.

"You do not have to work the cases today?" He frowned, knowing how often I brought my work home.

I could work, get ahead, I'd feel better if I did, but the pull of my two lovers was too entrancing, the papers tucked away in my briefcase would still be there later, besides, I'd stayed up late last night working, "no, it can wait."

He beamed a pleased smile at me and slipped quietly out of bed, disentangling himself from John's legs. Carefully and precisely, he tucked John in, nesting him in the blankets and crossed the room at the foot of the bed. He tucked me back in as well and bent down to kiss me again.

"Go back to sleep until there is breakfast. It is my desire to treat you both with the spoiling."

I chuckled at his broken English, amused that this morning he hadn't switched to the effortless French that we shared, but nodded. I rolled John to his side and spooned against him. Lafayette ran his fingers through my hair and crept out of the room. I pressed my body against John and inhaled deeply at the back of his neck, taking in the sweet grass and leather scent that he always held. He wriggled against me and started to wake up, he reached out and felt the cooling area of the mattress where Lafayette had been.

"Shh, sleep, mi amor." I whispered.

"Where's Laf?" He mumbled, flipping over to face me.

"Making us breakfast." I whispered.

"Hmm… okay… You stay here, though." He gripped my waist and nuzzled my chest, wrapping his arms around me.

I kissed the top of his head, "I'll stay, just ask and I'll stay."

I dozed as the smells of bread and chocolate filled our house. John's breathing was a metronome to me.

"Wake up mon amours." Lafayette crooned.

John stretched and reached out behind me for him, I heard the smack of their lips and smiled against John.

"Hi." John whispered to him.

"Is Alexander sleeping?" Lafayette asked him.

"No." I mumbled back.

"Come and have breakfast, my pets." Lafayette stroked my hair, brushing a strand behind my ear.

I sat up and kissed John's shoulder one final time before unravelling myself from him to get up. I followed to the kitchen and sat at the table before the great spread that Lafayette had filled it with. A steaming cup of coffee was situated at my place at the table. A tower of thickly cut brioche french toast sat on a plate at the center of the table next to a bowl of fruit salad, banana slices and whole strawberries, blackberry compote that was still warm, pots of custard and nutella, strawberry preserves from his last trip back home.

"Laf," I grinned, "you've outdone yourself."

"I love to cook for you." He shrugged it off.

John joined us once he had finished his morning routine of using the restroom and combing his wild hair. His mouth fell open seeing the meal that had been prepared for us.

"Laf, my goodness!" John sat at his place and smiled down at the mug of hot chocolate that waited for him.

Finally, Lafayette sat in his place and we began to pass food to one another across the table. I took a bite of french toast, laden with nutella and bananas and strawberries. It was impossible to stifle the moan that sprang from my lips.

"This is so good, lover." I sighed, once I'd swallowed a bite.

Lafayette grinned over his fork demurely, "feeding people I love is my greatest joy."

"It's really good, honey." John agreed.

I glanced at the harsh, white world outside and looked back at John and Lafayette, Lafayette spoke first, "we are going nowhere today, all of the transit has been shut down."

"It's okay, I'll take a snow day at home with you over almost anything." John shrugged.

We finished the beautiful meal that Lafayette had prepared and sat around the scavenged table together, "can I just say something?" I mused.

John snickered, "you're pregnant?"

I rolled my eyes and Lafayette chuckled confidently, "trust me, mon chou, if it were possible, we would know by now."

John bit back a giggle and Lafayette winked at me. I shrugged, _not like he was wrong._

"No… I was just… I just love you guys. These quiet days remind me of how much I love us. I love our little unit. I get you both during the light of day so rarely that I just savour it when the opportunity presents itself."

"I love you, too, baby. Does this mean you don't have to work?" John asked me. Once I nodded he leaned in and kissed me while Laf's cold toes found my calf under the table and ran the length from my knee to ankle.

"Let us clean this up and we can watch a movie together." Lafayette pulled himself from the dreamy haze of our perfect morning and started to clear the table.

He disappeared into the kitchen and we heard the faucet turn on, John sprang from his seat, bolting into the kitchen, "don't you do it!"

"Quoi?"

"Don't wash dishes, it's not fair, you cooked."

"It is fine, pet."

"No!" John protested.

I held back a chuckle as they bickered over who got to wash the dishes, they were both silenced by a splash and then a gasp from Lafayette, and then uproarious giggling from John. I walked in to the kitchen and found Lafayette's front soaked, water dripping down his face and John holding an empty cup.

"I cannot believe you!" Lafayette grinned despite the seriousness in his words.

I sipped my coffee and observed the scene. Lafayette swiped his finger through leftover nutella from a plate and smeared it across John's face. John gasped and dunked the cup under the water in the sink, throwing another glass on Laf who sputtered and blinked. I was disappointingly nearly out of coffee, there was no way I'd venture in to get more.

"That's it!" Lafayette grinned with the countenance of a madman and took a handful of custard from the pot and slathered it over John's face and neck.

"Laf!" John whined through a giggle, wiping out spots for his eyes and mouth, "Alex, help!"

"Nope, this is between you two."

John reached behind him to the pot of nutella on the counter and smeared it over Lafayette's face where it clung to the manicured stubble that framed his face.

"You are a part of this!" Lafayette shouted to me.

Before I knew what happened a strawberry hit me in the face. I gasped and rushed in to the action, abandoning my coffee cup on the counter. I grabbed the sprayer from the sink and shot it down John's shirt. He gasped and wiped the remainder of the nutella on his hand onto my face. Lafayette pressed a banana slice into the sticky nutella on my cheek and added some of the blackberry compote. I wiped the custard from John's face onto Lafayette's on top of the nutella and felt a strawberry squish against my shoulder and turned back to see John looking too pleased with himself.

"You've gotta be kidding me," I sighed, realizing that I was now the target focus.

John laughed and started to slide in the water on the floor. Lafayette reached to catch him and right him, sliding in the process, he took me down with him. I tripped John and we were all on the floor, wet, cold, a mess of breakfast remains.

"You're both ridiculous." I laughed from where I sat against Lafayette's chest between his legs.

John who was lying his head against mine and Lafayette's thighs reached up and pulled down a piece of cold french toast and wiped it over Lafayette's face and then across mine and looked at his handiwork, I felt the clean spot on my face and peered back to see that Lafayette looked better, too. Contentedly, John took a bite of the toast and then wiped at his own face with it and took another bite. Lafayette and I looked on in bemused horror.

"What? It's still pretty good." John shrugged.

Lafayette dropped his head back against the cabinet under the sink and reached up for the pot of nutella and the plate of strawberries. I ignored the fingermarks in the nutella. Laf swirled one of the berries in the chocolate and held it by the crown of leaves and fed it to me. I smiled up at him as I chewed. He fed me another, and then John - who had finished his toast - one.

We sat together and surveyed our mess and the mess we'd made of each other and burst into a fit of giggles.

"I'll go run us a bath if you gentlemen want to start with this." Lafayette told us.

"We can do that." I agreed and let him up.

John sat on the counter and patted at his face with a paper towel while I ran a dish towel over the floor to pick up some of the water, wringing it out several times before the two full glasses worth were cleaned up.

"Come here," John instructed me gently.

I let him wipe my face, getting most of the sticky substances off. He kissed my clean face and hopped off the counter to wash the dishes while I turned my attention to wiping breakfast condiments off of the cabinetry. I nudged John to the side to wipe the cabinet he stood in front of. Once I'd wiped away the remnants of blackberry away I turned my attention to kiss his hip, hooking my thumb in the waistband of his sweatpants and pulling them down enough to suckle at the soft angle of his hip bone.

"Chers!" Lafayette called to us, "the bath is ready."

"Come on, mi amor." I took John by the hand and we went to the bathroom, Lafayette waited for us in the large jacuzzi tub, one of the greatest selling points of the unit when we moved, somewhere that we could all easily fit. He was noticeably cleaner, I assumed that he'd washed his face while the tub filled.

I took John's hand and we got into the tub on either side of Lafayette and snuggled against him, the jets were inviting. I closed my eyes while Lafayette washed John's hair and dozed without realizing until I felt John run a washcloth over my chest.

"Baby," John stroked my cheek with a damp hand and I blinked until the world focused and looked at him.

Armed with a washcloth, he washed nutella out of my goatee and eyebrows. Once he was pleased with a job well done he kissed me. I kissed him back, passion consuming me. His mouth was soft and open, his tongue warm and probing. Lafayette moaned a low tone and sponged at us with the washcloths in the tub, mumbling sweet nothings to us in French. I reached through the water to stroke at Lafayette, unsurprised to find him hard already. John splashed water as he reached blindly to find one of Lafayette's nipples, never breaking our kiss.

Laf tapped me on the shoulder, "might I cut in."

I kissed John a final time and bowed out, turning my attentions instead to rub his shoulders, John now stroked me under the water.

"We are probably clean enough, no?" Laf asked.

"I think so." John agreed.

I got out first and handed them both towels. We went to our bedroom and curled under the blankets to warm up, John had been spending most nights in the middle, occasionally Lafayette would take the center, but almost never me. I was too prone to late nights.

As if hearing my thoughts, John spoke, "baby, get in the middle." He rolled over the top of me and I was surrounded by him and Lafayette.

They both lavished me in touches and kisses. Lafayette ducking beneath the covers and his mouth burned like lava against me, the intensity of pleasure curling my toes as he ran his tongue over my flesh. John gripped my fisted fingers and nipped at my neck, both of them working to pleasure me. Generally I avoided being the focus, but I welcomed the attention this morning. Lafayette stretched me open with precision as John's tongue swirled my hard nipple. Lafayette's fingers kneaded the flesh of my thighs like a cat. Everything was them.

Once Lafayette resurfaced John pulled me against his chest as Lafayette lined himself up between my legs. He kissed John while he entered me and I felt the moan in John's chest vibrate through his whole body as Lafayette started to move.

John gasped for air, "he tastes so good on you."

My stomach flipped with butterflies at the praises and Lafayette kissed my throat, "he tastes good no matter the circumstance."

"You're one to talk." I managed, reaching back to wrap my arms around John's neck.

John pulled my thighs up, letting Lafayette get impossibly deeper. I gasped and turned into John's arm.

"So beautiful." Lafayette grunted out between thrusts.

"Gorgeous, really." John agreed.

Lafayette's stamina was noteworthy, I staved off my own ecstasy to let him get closer. My teeth ground as I tried to stay present. John hung his head and kissed me and at the supple warmth of his lips against my own I lost myself, thighs twitching against his hands. Lafayette worked at his steady pace for an indiscernible amount of time before falling over me and gasping. I whimpered at the loss as he pulled out. I felt how hard John was against my back and turned my attentions to him.

"You're so open, so ready. Can I?" John asked, kissing my chest.

I straddled his hips and lowered myself, opening and wanting onto his waiting cock and gasped, still oversensitive from Lafayette. John moved under me but let me set the pace, I knew exactly the speed and figure eight motion that he liked. He looked up at me in pleasure as I took care of weight in the bed shifted and Lafayette was behind me, John began to whimper and his hips moved erratically beneath me. I chuckled to myself and looked over my shoulder to see that Lafayette was teasing John. I felt John go still and then my name bounced around the room in a cry of pleasure. I was too sensitive, too used to come again and instead slumped back against Lafayette who continued to work at John, placing kisses across my shoulders as he did so. I stayed on John's cock, feeling it twitch as Lafayette teased him. Finally, unable to handle it any longer I pulled off of him and lie beside him. Lafayette chuckled to himself and lie on the other side of John.

"So... " I sighed, "Scrabble?"

"No, I hate that game." John protested.

"No, you just hate playing me." I offered.

"How about a nap." Lafayette laughed, finding my hand over John.

"Deal." I conceded.

John tucked himself against Lafayette and I pressed myself against him, my head resting perfectly in the crook of Lafayette's elbow.


	9. Chapter 9

**This lil fella is from my LYNITS universe, a sneak peek into when John was a rough and tumble, angry kid in the deep south before growing up into the kind, tender man we've all come to know and love.**

* * *

"Jack, where are you going?" Lafayette looked at me with nervous eyes.

"Out. God. I'm just going out. Jesus, you sound like my dad." I shoulder checked him hard on my way through the door and regretted it.

"Jack, don't do this. It's not safe." He grabbed my arm, but I pulled free. Sports made me stronger than him.

"Yeah, since I'm so safe here." My scowl made me painfully aware of the bruise that purpled my cheek.

I crept out the door and pulled the J out from where I'd tucked it behind my ear, easily hidden under my hair and sparked it, taking a drag that slowly worked its way through my blood to mellow me out. I didn't want to be mellow. I wanted to burn off my adrenaline. I wanted to pour gas on the fire. The doors to my Beemer clicked as I unlocked them with the keyless entry. I slid into the leather seats and stubbed the joint out in the door frame, tucking the rest up in the visor. I didn't want to get high. Not like that. My phone buzzed in my pocket and I pulled it out and saw Laf's name, I flipped the phone open and powered it down, not wanting anymore interruptions. The BMW purred when I turned it on and I idled down the driveway. My legs thrummed with adrenaline and I drove to my favourite track, finishing the joint on the drive, watching the speedometer creep past one hundred. The dark road curved, but I handled them easily. Once I got to the track I parked sideways, not like anyone else would be coming to the track at this hour.

My sneakers squeaked when I tore off into a run. The adrenaline in my body had somewhere to go, I looked down at my watch and ran harder, I could beat my time. Faster. Faster. The world was a blur. Faster. I had to move faster. Nothing existed in that moment except for my feet on the pavement. I felt myself sinking into my high and slowed down. Even high, I'd managed to beat my last meet's time. I slowed down and listened to the chorus of frogs. The sounds of summer in South Carolina. This was the only redeeming quality of living out here, being able to actually be alone. It wasn't enough to just feel alone. I loved coming out here to _be_ alone. I dropped to my knees and screamed as loud as I could, nothing intelligible, just loud, I screamed out how angry I was after taking another beating from my father. Two more years. Two more fucking years and I'd be free. Two more fucking years and the prick would never fucking see me again. I'd get out of here, go to New York or San Francisco, somewhere far away from here, somewhere where the sounds of a city were loud enough to drown out my thoughts. The pavement still held the warmth of the day and felt good under my hands, but I pushed off of it, back to standing and made my way back to the car.

I got back in the car and reached under the passenger's seat for the bottle of Southern Comfort I kept there, it was half empty, just enough for the night. It sat open between my thighs as I drove. The muscles pulsed from exertion around the bottle and I finally felt relaxed. Finally, I'd been able to let go some of the bullshit. There was a party happening on the outskirts of town. I'd been on the fence about whether or not I would go, but I decided that this bottle of Southern Comfort wouldn't be quite enough to do it for me.

The bonfire was visible from a mile away and I turned my car own the gravel path and parked in the circle of pickup trucks.

"Hey! Johnny!" My peers slurred as I walked up, stuffing my hands into my pockets.

"What's good, dog?" I shook my friend, Adam's hand in our complicated gesture.

"We're speedballing over here, you down?"

"Always down, my man." I laughed at him like he was stupid.

"How'd you get the shiner?"

"My old man."

"Damn… Again?"

I shrugged, "looks like it, huh?"

He handed me a straw and I snorted the white powder off the hood of his red pickup. I felt it hit me and stumbled over to the fire to sit in the grass. I watched the bonfire burn, vaguely aware of the warmth on my face.

"You know, Jimmy's got his eye on you."

"Yeah?" I sniffed.

"Hell yeah, man. Get you some." Adam slapped me on the shoulder.

The drugs gave me renewed confidence and I staggered over to him.

"H-hey, Jimmy." He was good enough looking, muscles had filled out over the summer.

He blushed and looked up at me, I was the tallest among my peers, Lafayette, my only saving grace. This was all stupid, the smart thing to do would be to go home and let Lafayette hold me in his bed while I came down. Lafayette. He'd called me. Lafayette, he was so warm and safe, he'd hold me and call me pretty in French and make me drink water and tell me it was all going to be alright. That I'd get out of here somehow. _Go home, Jackie._ No. I don't have a home, not even Lafayette is home. He's just… my best friend… the person I'm hurting… The person I'm disappointing.

"Hey, Laurens."

I stumbled and put my hand on his shoulder to get my bearings, shaking free of the thoughts of Laf.

"Do you wanna get the fuck out of here?" The drugs made my voice sound wrong, thick and heavy.

He bit his lip and his eyes sparkled. He'd do.

"Yeah, let's go. We can take my truck."

I nodded and climbed into the cab beside him. The ride up to the peak went unnoticed by me, the world had reduced to wind and colour. I wanted to make Jimmy want me. To be wanted by somebody. That's all I needed, all I wanted tonight. When the truck stopped moving I couldn't tell, my body pulsated and my vision was blurry. Jimmy and I climbed around the back of the truck and he let the tailgate down. Our clothes were discarded around the bed and I could feel him sucking at my throat. Could feel him lining up, hear him spit into his hand, feel the searing iron pain as he entered me. The stars were pretty tonight.

It did feel good. Through the numbness of the drugs I knew that much. He was thick and hard. I liked that.

"Laurens, your body's so good. Wanting to fuck you all year, see you running by shirtless. So fucking hot. You're as good as I thought you'd be."

I listened to myself mumble something vaguely sexual in response and found Cassiopeia. Found the dipper, used that to find the rest of the bear. Found Mars. Maybe I'd fit in on Mars. Maybe no one would call me a freak there. I didn't like being called a freak, but I'd take it over the other names. My walls started to shake around him as I tuned back in, he was pumping my dick in time to his thrusts. My balls seized and I bit down on his shoulder as my orgasm flooded me. He grunted as he came. I never cared for all the grunting.

Jimmy reached up into the cab and pulled out a bottle of Jack. We passed it back and forth and looked up at the stars. I didn't even notice the mosquitos biting my bare skin. Jimmy made no moves to get close to me and I wondered if maybe cuddling afterwards was just something that happened in the movies. _Go home, Jackie. Lafayette will cuddle you._

'I should probably get going." I decided.

"I'll take you back to your car."

We dressed ourselves again and slid into the truck. The ride was silent, country music on the radio, always country music. The party had cleared out and the bonfire was dying embers.

"Thanks for the ride."

"Mhm, and, hey, remember at school this shit never happened." Jimmy flashed me a winning smile that would keep me coming back to play the role of his dirty little secret.

I drove my car home, the rumble strips keeping me on the road as I took the curves at ninety, hey, nice cars weren't made to drive slow. The door creaked as I opened it, but I slid upstairs unnoticed. Lafayette's lamp was on so I tapped on the door.

"John?" He whispered, a gasp of relief in his voice.

I pushed the door open and found him reading, looking dignified, hair wrapped under silk, matching pajamas, his glasses on the end of his nose. He put his book down, surely some sappy French romance novel and slid over, patting the free space. My feet were unsteady under me and I staggered to his bed, kicking my shoes off with two loud thuds that made me giggle. The sheets were soft and I nuzzled into them, pulling my shirt off. Lafayette pulled me into his arms and I realized - trying to focus on how smooth his pajamas felt against my skin - just how dizzy I was.

"Jack, you smell like a barn, what have you done tonight?"

I tried to remember, "um… went for a run, went to a fire, got laid… think that's about it."

"Mon dieu." He wrapped his arms around me. "Every time you do this I fear you have died."

I ignored the sadness in his voice, I hated myself for disappointing him, hurting him, "do you think I'm capable of being loved?" The tears started now.

The crying was always the worst part of coming down. Lafayette felt good. Holding me. Next to my sisters and Harry, Lafayette was the only person in the world who loved me.

"Shh, Jackie, of course you will be loved." He smoothed my hair back and rested his forehead against my shoulder.

"How come I don't mean anything to any of them? I thought Frankie was it but he doesn't want me... 'cause of dad." I turned to face Lafayette and sobbed into his chest.

I was so tired of how much it hurt just to live. It wasn't supposed to hurt just to live. Life was supposed to be filled with love and joy and fresh flowers and the way coloured pencils smell right after you sharpen them. Not this.

"He is just afraid, mon chou. How is your eye?"

"It's fine… I hate my dad." I kept sobbing, unable to stop myself now.

"I know you do."

"It wasn't this bad before mom died. I wish he died instead."

Lafayette shushed me and kissed the top of my head.

"You will be loved, beauty. You will find a man who will love you and bring you flowers and write you poetry. You will."

"Those kind of men don't exist. That's just made up for your stupid romance books."

"It will be real for you."

"Doubt it."

"Jackie, it will."

He twisted my hair through his fingers, making little braids in the curls. I fell asleep without realizing it, soothed by Lafayette's heartbeat.

I couldn't pay attention in school all the next day. It didn't matter, I didn't have to make good grades as long as I could run fast. That was my golden ticket. Because people who run fast are good doctors, or so was the Henry Laurens logic. A voice shook me from my thoughts at lunch.

"I said, 'hey, fag, your makeup's coming off,'" this time it came with a push.

I turned to see Charles Lee staring me down. I didn't want to do this, not today. I touched the bruise from my dad and thought about the cover up Martha had let me use. We'd decided it wouldn't be good for my teachers to see a black eye from the esteemed Henry Laurens.

"Leave me alone, Charles." I turned back to my tray.

"One of your faggy boyfriends give you that?" He sneered and I felt my head get wet, chocolate milk dripped on the table in front of me.

I pushed away from the table, the linoleum squeaking under the legs of my chair, and stood up to my full height. I was strong, I was built, there wasn't a fight I wouldn't win.

He clocked me before I saw it coming and I punched him back, grabbing him by the front of his jacket, I slammed him on the table and held him down. He got a leg between us and kicked me square in the chest. Droplets of chocolate milk hit the linoleum as I flew backwards. In the moment of falling I felt peaceful, but as the ground rose up to meet me to the pain started. Two of the coaches grabbed us and separated us.

"This isn't over!" I screamed, I hadn't secured a victory, and, honestly, had gotten my ass kicked.

I was sent home and certain they'd call my dad. I hid out in my room, trying to avoid the inevitable and sketched my baby sister, Polly, in our mother's arms. Lafayette got home and came to find me.

"What happened?"

"Charles Lee is what happened."

"What do you mean?"

"He… started talking shit, poured chocolate milk on my head… I punched him." I twisted my now clean, but still wet curls around my fingers.

"I'm sorry, mon ami."

"It's fine." There was a hard edge in my voice.

"Please don't do anything stupid."

"Not stupid." I shook my head and went back to sketching.

Time passed and the sun dropped behind the trees. I was called to my father's study.

"John, do you care to tell me why I received a call from your school today?"

"No, father." I stared at his desk, not daring to look at him.

"Why do you insist on making a mockery of our family name? Was the death of your mother not bad enough for our family?"

"I didn't mean anything by it." I braced for him to strike me.

"You shame me and shame me and shame me, John, there is only so much that disrespect that a man can take, and from his own son, no less."

"I'm sorry my existence is so shameful to you, sir." I rose my gaze to stare at the spines of his thick, boring law books.

"Leave me, I cannot bear to look at you anymore."

The chair scraped on the floor from how quickly I got up, thankful that I'd managed to escape an interaction without another bruise to conceal.

Once everyone was in bed I pulled on my chucks and tied my long hair up into a messy bun, I was ready to get square with Charles.

"John, no. Where are you going tonight?" Laf pleaded, hearing me go past his room.

"I'm going out, Laf." I said solemnly.

"John, please. Please, don't do this."

"I'll be fine. Love you." I hugged my friend and slipped out the door.

The drive was short enough, I knew the spot that Lee and his cronies liked to party at. My Beemer took me there gracefully, a beautiful piece of machinery. I was right, I could hear them whooping and laughing at what was certainly a hare-brained joke. The car went silent as I pulled the key from the ignition. The walk down to the lake was short, they noticed me almost immediately and I cracked my knuckles ready for the fight. Ready for the blood to spill over my lips and teeth, ready to turn my fingers the same purple colour that my father had turned my face.

"Is that you, Laurie?" Charles roared with squeaky laughter at his own stupid joke.

"Lee! Get the fuck up here and face me!" I roared, listening to the echo of my voice through the trees.

"You're pretty brave to come alone, queerbait." Lee retorted, coming up the rocky embankment.

"This isn't about your friends. This is between you and me."

I walked up to him and cold cocked him. He spat blood onto the rocks, with any luck a tooth with it.

"Got some balls on you, Laurens."

"So I've heard." I sneered

Lee punched me back, I leaned out of the way to miss the full impact and listened to his friends goad him on to hit me harder. He did, but not before I got another good swing in, he might have been stronger, but I was faster, more agile. When you grow up getting hit you're better at dodging blows.

He didn't get back up after a hard blow to the side, kneeling on the rocks, coughing and sputtering.

"Don't you ever fucking touch me again." I spat on the ground between us and turned to go back to my car, go home, lick my wounds, apologize to Laf, but I heard commotion behind me.

"Whoa, whoa, Charles! Man, too far, what are you doing?" One of the cronies was shouting at him, but then I felt the pain.

I felt the pain before the sound made sense. The sound was my baseball bat cracking against the ball on a bright May morning. It was a truck backfiring. It was thunder in the middle of the night. It hurt.

"You fuckin' shot him?" One of the cronies shouted at Charles.

I dropped to my knees.

"We gotta get the fuck out of here," the other one.

This sound was a truck backfiring. They were leaving. I looked down to see the blood spreading through my t-shirt, over my shoulder, just my shoulder. I could handle that. I just had to get home. I could just pack the wound, just pack… the… I could pack the wound… I could… fuck, it hurt. I pressed my shoulder with my other hand in an attempt to keep my blood inside me. In my car, _good start._ I thought about calling Laf, but instead just reached for the bottle of vodka I'd scammed after leaving my dad's study, poured some of it over my shoulder and some in my mouth to steel me for the drive.

"Let's go." I told myself in the rearview mirror.

My breathing came in short, labouring intervals as I sped back toward my house. It was a funny sensation, how my vision would fade to white and come back. The sound and impact of scraping the Beemer down the guardrail was only vaguely on my register.

"John, baby, what did you do?" My mom sighed.

"I just… mom… it's bad…"

"I know, sweetie, but this isn't helping." She tucked my hair behind my ear and kissed my cheek.

"It's horrible, mom… Everything."

I talked to my dead mother in the passenger seat and managed to get myself home, leaving the BMW parked haphazardly in the long driveway. I burst through the door and hurried up to the bathroom to clean myself.

I was white behind a sheet of freckles, the blood was completely covering my shirt. I was crying. Hard. It fucking hurt. Lafayette appeared once I'd taken the bloody shirt off and was leaning against the wall, too weak to stand.

"John! What happened?" Lafayette was already crying and cradling me.

"Got. Shot. Lee." I leaned into him, holding his shirt for stability.

We sank to the ground.

"Jack!" My brother's voice.

Lafayette telling him to get my dad.

"Don't… Don't tell dad." I begged, but sleep surrounded me.

When I woke up, there was a scratchy, thin blanket over me, but I was so warm, I was so warm, and felt so loved. I opened my eyes. Laf. He was in bed with me. In the hospital. Hospital? Hospital. The pain came flooding back and I became aware of my arm in the sling.

"You are awake." Lafayette gasped.

"I am." I confirmed, mostly just to make sure I wasn't dead.

"Jack." He sobbed into my hair and held me tighter than ever.

"I'm sorry, Laf, I'm so sorry."

"No. No. Don't be. I'm just so glad you're alive."

"I'm sorry I'm such a piece of garbage."

"You aren't!" He held me tighter.

"I am. I'm a waste of space."

"Jack, you aren't. Please don't start this again. You are perfect."

"No, I'm not."

His lips were warm against mine, soft, full, smooth, but it felt all wrong. I didn't want Lafayette like that. He was so much more to me, he was practically my brother.

"What are you doing?" I stopped him.

"I don't know! Proving we're normal? Good enough? That you shouldn't try to get yourself killed! I don't know, Jack. Nothing else I do is working."

"I just want don't want to feel so… persecuted."

"I know. It will get better."

"What makes you so sure?"

"I don't know… it just has to. Someday, John, you're going to have a perfect, wonderful life. You will. You'll find someone who loves you."

"You really think so?"

"I know it."

"You really think he'll write me poetry?"

"I really do."

"Do you think I'll ever get to have kids?"

"Beautiful ones that look just like you."

Drowsiness hazed over me, "do you think he'll be beautiful?"

"So beautiful."

"Dark hair. Dark eyes. I'm gonna play with his hair. I'm gonna love him."

"I know you will. He's going to love you right back." Lafayette promised.

"And, Laf?"

"Yes, Jack?"

"Promise me you won't ever kiss me again?"

"Deal… that was… weird, but it was worth a shot."

"But we've definitely ruled that out."

"Oh, God, yes." He agreed and let me fall back asleep on him.


	10. Chapter 10

**This is from a prompt sent in by one of my most dedicated fans, ChibiDawn23. Thank you so much for the prompt, hope you enjoy!  
This oneshot is connected to the 'Wings' and takes place long before our beloved John was ever in the mix.**

* * *

I hurried to Abuela's door - too anxious from what the news was saying, I wasn't sure what it all meant, or how long we had - and knocked, the noise stirring Philip in his sling. After what seemed like an hour she answered.

"Abuela, what do we do?" I stared at her.

"We wait." She smiled and welcomed me in, I put a hand on Philip's back, feeling it move as he breathed against my chest.

"Do you think it's going to be bad?"

"Let's hope it isn't. Paciencia y fe, mi hijo."

I nodded and breathed in the milky smell of Philip's head. He was none the wiser, he'd never know this happened. I'd keep him safe. That's what daddies are here for.

"Do you want me to take him, Alex? Give your poor back a break?" She looked at Philip and smiled.

I shook my head, too anxious to be away from him. I had to be with him. Lightning struck outside again with a gargle of thunder behind it and I clamped my eyes shut.

"It's going to be alright." Abuela patted my thigh.

"I'm scared."

"I know you are mi hijo, but it's okay."

I thought about the midterms I wasn't studying for, why did I need to take biology if I was a theatre major, anyway? It was just a ploy from the big education assholes to scam me out of money in an attempt to keep education accessible only to the elite and force out minorities and people without money, people with children, I knew it was.

"I should be studying." I said, staring blankly out the window, upset that it hadn't even started raining yet.

"Go get your books. I will watch the baby."

I looked between her and Philip still sleeping against me and relented. I unfastened the carrier that tethered him to me and passed my sleeping son to her before running up the stairs full tilt to the apartment I could barely afford where I grabbed my books and headed back downstairs. Abuela was talking to Philip, cooing softly at the sleeping baby. I sat on the couch which was draped in an afghan blanket she'd made and tried to read my textbook while the news droned on.

The storm was getting closer.

Words on the page I was reading floated in my anxiety, I couldn't make them stay in one place. Mitochondria, powerhouse of the cell, got it. I moved to work on my theatre paper and read through the textbook, maybe if it was at least what I was interested in the class I'd be more engaged. It was a good idea, but I still struggled to focus. It was just about lighting, I knew lighting would never be the job for me anyway, what psychopath would want to spend that much time that high up over the stage? I knew that the real action was backstage anyway. It was hopeless, so I closed my book and became that much more aware of how fast my foot was tapping on the floor.

"Alexito you look too skinny, when did you last eat?" Abuela frowned at me over my sleeping son.

 _When had it been?_

"Uh, no sé, maybe yesterday?" I grimaced, knowing that that was the wrong answer.

She stood up and handed Philip back to me. He turned his head and smacked his lips, falling back asleep. I kissed his forehead, he was the most perfect thing in the universe, he was my everything.

In the kitchen I listened to Abuela rummaging through repurposed margarine containers for leftovers for me, even though she knew as well as I did that I didn't feel like eating... even if my hoodie was hanging off of me. It was easy to forget to eat, or be too broke to eat, or to just be too tired to eat, I had more important stuff to worry about… like an opinion paper on traditional gels versus LED lights for stage. She roused me from my thoughts with a plate of chicken and peppers, I thanked her and picked at the rice, not wanting to be admonished or reminded that Philip needed me to be big and strong.

We watched the news, passing Philip back and forth until the hours grew late, Abuela still rocking in her chair, I lie on the sofa now, Philip on my chest. There was still round the clock coverage, apparently the wind speed was picking up, but we made it to midnight. I was certain that October 28th would have gone down in history as the worst day of my life, but somehow that was wrong, somehow October 28th was back to just being a regular day again as all of New York set its sights on the next day.

Eventually I fell asleep, waking up in the middle of the night to find myself covered in the afghan from the back of the couch, and Philip in the pack and play which had been stored in the closet before I fell asleep.

I blinked and stretched. Abuela's door was closed and Philip was sound asleep so I crept out the door of her apartment and outside for a cigarette. For two cigarettes. For three cigarettes. As I smoked I looked through my phone and saw that I had texts from Lafayette, knowing that I'd be panicking in the storm. I texted him back, **so far so good.** Classes were already called off, there was a text alert from earlier in the evening. The city seemed tired tonight, the air charged with preparation, sandbags in front of the doors of businesses. I looked down the street at the Solario's dispatch, the salon, the little bodega, we'd all make it. We'd all be okay. In the quiet, I felt alone and pulled my phone back out, starting a text.

 **Hey, sorry to bother you, I just wanted to make sure**

 _No, it's not your place, Alex._

 **Hey, it's Alexander, just checking if you're**

 _No, stop it._

 **Hey, are you safe from the storm? It's supposed to**

 _Dammit, Alex, no!_ As I continued to war with myself I lit another cigarette, forever grateful to Señor Vega for looking the other way when he sold them to me.

 **You know what, bitch, our son is safe, I'm protecting him from**

The cherry of the cigarette glowed in the dark as I took a long drag off of it, _what good would that do? She hasn't spoken to you in six months, nothing you could say will solve anything._

Once again, I deleted the drafted text to Maria and pocketed my phone. As grateful as I was for Abuela and my neighbours, I was still basically on my own. I never thought Maria and I would work out, wouldn't really have wanted us to, but maybe we could have at least been amicable. Even after a horrible court battle with lawyers I couldn't afford I was barely getting child support. It was better to do it on my own and give Philip a life where he knew he was loved more than anything and wanted more than anything than to try and force his mother to spend time with him. It was so hard, though, to be both parents, to be, god, just a fucking kid myself, to be bumbling through school, working tech crew at whatever production would hire me to try and scrape together enough just to live, a seventeen year old fuck-up.

It was starting to get windy and the temperature continued to drop. I sank deeper into my hoodie, my fingers fumbling over imaginary piano keys, I started to mumble to myself, looking at the sleeping buildings down the street, glancing up at the full moon.

"Smile at the faces I've known my whole life… you're going places, how do I say I have so much to hide? _Something something_ , no me preocupo por ello, they aren't worrying about me since I got all these scholarships, saved every dollar, I'm the first to go to college. _Something something_ , what would Abuela say, if I went in there to say, 'I know I am letting you down.'" I kicked around the tune that had been clinging to me for weeks, trying to flesh out any sort of progress on it.

My stomach knotted and I felt the waves of memories hit me. I barely remembered anything, but I did remember how I felt, how scared I'd been, how sick I'd been. How alone I was. At that memory I went back inside and pulled Philip out of his pack and play, it was selfish, but I had to touch him, to feel that he was real, and okay, and safe. He blinked up at me in the dark. Day in and day out it got easy to forget that he was so big now. Almost a year old, that made me almost eighteen… our whole lives ahead of us.

"Whatcha think, tiny?" I whispered, bouncing him on my hip.

He looked up at me with those giant hazel eyes and leaned his big head on my shoulder, patting my chest with his tiny hand. I kept bouncing him and smelled his head, feeling more calm with that milky smell and him patting my chest, fingers finding the chain I wore, the only thing I still had from my mom.

"We're gonna be, okay, Pip. Promise. I'll keep you safe."

He babbled at me and eventually fell back asleep. I sat on the couch and at some point also fell back asleep.

Abuela was up first, and filling the apartment with the smell of meat frying in a pan. I woke up and found that Philip was already in his high chair, happily eating chunks of banana. I stretched and got up.

"Buenos días, abuelita." I yawned, and kissed her on the cheek.

"You sleep so late, Alexito."

I furrowed my brow playfully at her, "usually Philip's my alarm clock."

"You get a day off once in a while. That's the advantage of you living in my building." She handed me a cup of coffee, which I gulped gratefully.

Philip squealed when I sat down at the table beside him and reached for my face with a banana covered hand, "ew, I don't want you banana hands!" I feigned disgust but kissed his messy fingers anyway.

Abuela sat a plate in front of me with eggs and fried ham and toast and more coffee and papaya and banana. I smirked at her, she always took care of me. She sat in her seat at the head of the table.

"Did you take your medicine, Abuela?"

She smiled at me, "you have more important things to worry about, Alexander."

I poked a piece of ham on my fork, "not when you keep eating like this. I need your heart strong, keep you around for a long time." I tried her own logic against her.

"Don't worry about me, I'm fine."

"If it's money, we can get you the money, I'll figure something out."

"Hijo, that's enough, I just don't like how it makes me feel."

With that it was clear that the conversation was over. I bit a piece of papaya in half and gave the smaller chunk to Philip who babbled in delight around it.

The news droned on in the living room, the storm had been de-categorized from a hurricane to a superstorm, it was still just as bad though, regardless of what they wanted to call it. It was getting bigger and faster again and heading toward Jersey. I helped abuela with the dishes and started again on my homework, still distracted. I was smart, but I was so tired. Philip played on the floor with toys, though he seemed more interested in trying to pull my sock off.

Abuela patted my shoulder, seeing the frustration on my face as I grimaced at my textbook.

"What is the problem? You are smart, no?"

"It's just a lot." I sighed, feeling overwhelmed.

She took the book and sat in her chair to look at it, scanning lines of text that I knew meant nothing to her, "why don't you tell me everything you know?"

While she spoke, I flopped onto the floor, grabbed the diaper bag, and pulled Philip's onesie up to change him.

Distracted by the task at hand and frustrated with my life and my schoolwork I grumbled, already feeling like a failure, "okay so first, there's the… condensation step and the carbon group gets… combined, I guess, with the oxaloacetate group to make a… bigger molecule… um, that's citrate. The ATP rate matters, but I can't remember why, the more of it… the less of something else? The citrate loses a water molecule and… it's hopeless. I'm gonna flunk this test, and then I'm going to flunk out of college, and then me and Philip are gonna live on the streets." I snapped Philip's onesie shut and threw the diaper away.

He played on the floor with the package of wipes and I scrubbed my face with my hands, feeling hot tears pricking my eyes.

"Alexito, hijo, mi amor, calm down, try again. You are smart."

After several more attempts I managed to explain the Krebs Cycle to her with alright detail. She seemed so proud, I just felt more and more disappointing. While we were studying the hurricane, or as it was now being called Superstorm Sandy made landfall on D.C., leaving people powerless, it was still headed our way. My phone rang and I stepped outside to answer it, happy to have another cigarette, I tried my hardest not to smoke around Abuela, it was a lecture I didn't need.

"Bonjour, ami." Lafayette answered the phone.

I switched over to French, Laf's English was still pretty terrible and it gave me reason to practice and keep my skills sharp.

"Hi, Laf, where are you?" I had to make sure he was safe, too.

"In the dorm. And you are?"

"With grandmother. We're safe."

"How is my baby?"

"He's fine. He's okay."

"And more relevant, how is my best friend?"

I took a drag off the smoke and chuckled, "oh, fine, I'm okay."

His voice was dry, "I do not believe a word."

"I'm alright, really, Laf."

"Okay. Okay. I know the storms bring you pain."

"As long as my kid's okay, I'm fine."

"Whatever you say, my friend. How is your studying going?"

"I know I don't give a shit about the Krebs Cycle or stage lighting."

"Okay, the lighting section is very difficult."

"It's not difficult, just boring."

"Well, when I'm a big shot director and you're my right hand man we'll make sure we have the best light tech in the land."

I snorted, "sure."

"We will be okay, no?" I was pretty sure that he was talking about more than classwork.

"I'm sure we will." I agreed, flicking my cigarette.

Lafayette and I chatted for a little while and eventually we got off the phone. It started to rain. Abuela was rocking Philip on her hip and singing an old Spanish lullaby to him as he wailed.

"What's wrong?"

"He got sad that his papi left him."

I let out a heavy breath and unencumbered her, taking my son back and holding him to me, "what's the deal, kid? Daddy can't leave you alone with Abuelita for five minutes? Not even to talk to your Oncle Laf? Come on, buddy, that's enough, you're okay."

Philip continued to wail into my shoulder as I hushed him, bouncing our way through the living room. Rain beat against the windows and I held tightly to Philip even though he'd calmed down, Abuela sat contentedly in her chair and knit.

"It's coming." I told her.

"And so it will." She nodded.

Philip fought against me to get down and play on the floor, I let him down and he crawled to the basket with Abuela's yarn in it, she chided him immediately. The wind whipped angrily around the apartment building. We continued to watch the news. My fingers itched for a cigarette as my body vibrated. Philip brought me a toy, I played half-heartedly with him but kept my attention on the television.

Abuela made us dinner and we watched clips of the flooded subway tunnels. As if the MTA wasn't shitty enough before this. I wondered how expensive a cab to school would be. I barely ate the dinner I was handed, but broke off little pieces to give to Philip who ate the food eagerly.

The apartment went dark. We, like so many other New Yorkers lost power. Philip startled and began to cry. I hushed him, a few tears slipping over my own cheeks. I hated feeling so helpless, how could I protect my baby from nature? From god himself? Abuela lit candles and I watched the flicker of light dance in Philip's eyes as he stared at the pillar candle of the Virgin Mary glowing.

Abuela began to call our neighbours to make sure that they were all okay. The winds beat against the apartment. I tried to take deep breaths and focus on Philip playing with his block.

"Alexito, you're okay." Abuela was reassuring as she spoke to me between phone calls.

"I know." I nodded, despite not believing her.

My phone buzzed with a message from Lafayette: **no power. You safe?**

I responded in kind. We were still okay. We would be okay. I wouldn't let anything happen to Philip. The storm continued to howl outside, sheets of rain battering the windows. Reading my face, Philip stayed on edge. I sang softly to him, the song that I'd written for him, his song and he calmed down. The sounds of the rain separated me from myself and time meant nothing, in this fugue, despite the clench of anxiety I grew heavy. It seemed that the worst of the wind was over, but I knew better, I knew that it could just be waiting to pick back up again. Ideas for lyrics flashed into my mind, _in the eye of the hurricane there is silence, for just a moment…_ I could imagine the notes to accompany the song.

"What's on your mind, hijo?" Abuela asked me.

"Writing songs in my head."

"When will you make your Broadway debut, fantastic song writer?"

I chuckled, "yeah, I don't think so. I'm just as happy in the background."

"Don't sell yourself short, hijo, so talented, don't squander that."

"I don't know, Abuela, maybe."

"I'll be in the front row when you do."

This earned a genuine smile from me, "I know."

"Let's get some rest, mi hijo. The worst is over."

I nodded at her and started the routine of getting Philip and myself ready for bed. He was so warm and soft in his sleeper that I snuggled him beside me on the sofa. Abuela walked through the apartment, turning off the useless light switches in case we got power back in the middle of the night.

"You sleep with that baby so much he'll never learn how to sleep alone." I could hear the eye roll in her voice.

"We both like it," I shrugged off her complaint.

"See if you're still saying that in five years."

That was a long way away, for right now, I just wanted my baby nearby. Philip snored softly in my arms while I pined over my longing for someone to hold me, make me feel like everything would be alright. I'd resigned myself to the belief that that wouldn't happen for a long time and just imagined that I had someone to hold me and keep me safe. I thought about them until I fell asleep. We'd all made it through the storm.


	11. Chapter 11

**This is super short, even by my standards, but I wanted to give y'all a little Pride love. Our festivities near me have wrapped up, we only get a weekend but we do it big. This takes place between installments two and three of the LYNITS 'verse. No matter who you are, who you love, how you choose to express it or feel safe expressing it, I see you, I love you, you matter, you're valid. Happy pride and may it be inspiring enough to carry you through the next eleven months until we do it again! And, hey, by next pride us Americans will be months away from VOTING HIM OUT!**

* * *

"Alex… I wanna go home." John leaned heavily against me, smelling like alcohol and sweat and sunscreen and his perfect fucking strawberries, even in the crowd those strawberries permeated everything.

"Are you sure? Isn't Laf coming back?" I twisted his hair around my fingers, just now realizing how fully intoxicated he truly was, being in sun all day hadn't helped his constitution either.

"I don't know." He sounded almost sad, exhausted, not unlike our three year old after a long day at the zoo.

As I looked around, I realized that pride was not so unlike our zoo experiences, splendid sights to draw the eye, _too many fucking people_ , face paintings galore. There were more heels here, however, that difference was noticeable.

"You want me to get us an uber?" I asked him, moving us out of the flow of traffic as people tried to navigate around us.

John nodded against my chest and I typed our coordinates into the app. We waited on a bench for our car to arrive and John played with the hem of my shirt, swaying slightly. He was ridiculously cute like this, his tolerance lower than mine, I'd matched him drink for drink, but his were frozen and sugary… and I had practice.

"I'm really drunk, aren't I?" He whimpered.

"A little bit, yeah." I smirked down at him and pushed his hair back from his sticky forehead just to look at the freckles, trying to tell in the dark if the day in the sun had given him more.

"Are you mad?"

 _Fuck up, you're a fuck up, you don't even know what you did you're such a fuck up,_ "what? No, Jack, I'm not mad at all. Why?"

"I don't know… 'cause I'm messy and I made you dance."

"Messy? Querido, you're no Lafayette. I wouldn't call you messy. And, I'll have you know that I danced of my own volition. I'd do it all again if it meant you grinding on me like that."

He giggled at this, "you like it when I do that, huh?"

"More than you realize." There was a growling edge to my voice and I wondered where our uber was, ready to be in private with him.

He looked up at me and then dissolved into giggles, wiping my face, slapping me accidentally in the process, his lack of depth perception evident, "there's so much glitter on you."

"It's all from you." I glowered at him, the glitter rainbow that was once pristine on his cheek was now a streak barely clinging to the hollow above his jaw. It blended in with the glitter on his chest, his arms, everywhere. Pride was glitter.

"I made Alexander Hamilton a glittery mess." He took on an air of bravado and grinned proudly at me and then poking my nose.

I stared at him in shock, "did you really just do that?"

"Mm-hmm." He bit his lip to try and hold back his grin, but it came through regardless.

It was the lip bite. The lip bite always did me in. I held the back of his sweaty neck and pulled him close to me, tasting the sweet drinks still lingering in his mouth. _We had to get home._

As if on command, our uber arrived, he was a young guy, seemed to be disappointed to have missed out, "you guys Alexander?"

"He is!" John hopped off of the bench and I helped him into the back seat.

"Should we have left Laf?" He tried to whisper in my ear, having no concept of appropriate volume in his current state.

"It's fine. He's got Hercules." I tried to reassure him, really just wanting to get home and get him naked.

"Should I call him?"

"No, querido, it's probably fine. He's doing his thing."

John nodded and looked out the window as the festival disappeared behind us, he then dropped a hand to my crotch, starting to palm at me through my jeans. I leaned back against the headrest and enjoyed his touch. _Really want to get home._

"You guys have a good night?" Our driver asked.

John was distracted by suckling at my neck so I answered for us, trying in vain to keep my voice level as my cock stiffened under my husband's touch, "oh… yeah, it was a long day, but it was good to go out there and do the… pride… thing," John was now trying to figure out how to unzip my jeans, leaving me, _me,_ struggling for words.

"How long you guys been together?" It was friendly small talk, but all I could think of was John underneath me.

Without missing a beat John piped up, "four years."

"Damn, look at you guys go."

The rest of the ride was silent, our driver seeming to get the hint. John continued to tease me until we got home. I unlocked the door to our apartment and guided him to the bedroom.

"I'm going to go to the bathroom, do you want anything?" I kissed his forehead and retreated after he shook his head.

Once I took the most satisfying piss of my life I filled a glass of water from the sink and brought it back to the bedroom where John sat hunched over with our most recent family photo taken from its place on my night stand and held in his hands. In the photo we sat in Central Park, John resting back against my chest, Philip in his lap, finger in his slobbering mouth. John wept softly and I set the water on the side table to slide behind him, not unlike how we sat in the photo.

"Amante, what's wrong?" I kissed his bare shoulder, exposed by his rainbow tank top.

"I'm… just… so… h-happy." He choked out, taking my hand and kissing it.

"What? Really? You look pretty miserable."

He set the picture off to the side on the bed and twisted to look at me, scrubbing his face with his hands.

"I never thought… I mean… n-never, that I could h-have a family or someone to really love me and take care of me. I never even thought I could be out for a long, _long_ time, and look at me, I got you, I got Pip. We're a real family. We get to hold hands when we walk down the street. We get to be us. I never thought this would happen," he cried into my chest, "I didn't think I'd be alive to see it."

I held him and let him cry in my arms, remembering that pride mixed with alcohol had a tendency to do this to him. It was still bizarre to me to think that I could be the best part of someone's life. Philip being the best part made sense to me, but me? I thought about it. John was the best part of my life, there's no way I'd have Philip without him, and as I thought about the horrible stories he'd told me about his youth I felt a tear slip over my cheek.

Our lives were so perfect, but they'd been so close to being completely different. I was so grateful, for him, for me somehow being brave enough to let him in. I was so grateful that _finally, fucking finally_ laws were in place to allow us to be married, to be a family, to pay our fucking taxes together. Mostly I was grateful that he'd chosen to stick around long enough to see it all come to fruition.

"I love you, John. I'm so grateful for you. I'm so proud of you." I tucked the loose hair behind his ear and kissed him softly, closing my eyes into the kiss and appreciating how much he felt like home.

"I love you too, 'Lex." He broke our kiss and smiled up at me, the tears finally drying in his eyes.

"You're so stupid, fucking gorgeous, querido. Your little sunburned cheeks, freckles popping out. You are my world, mi vida, my everything. It scares me to think what I'd be without you."

"Stop it." He rolled his eyes, cheeks reddening deeper under the glitter as he blushed at me.

"We got pretty lucky, didn't we?"

He nodded, "sorry for being a total mood killer. It just hit me when I looked around our apartment and really thought about how good we have it. I mean, yeah there's a long way to go… but us… the three of us? We've got it so good."

"You're the farthest thing from a mood killer. Please, you know I think you're sexiest when you're being all domestic… and freckly."

"I probably smell like garbage."

I inhaled against his neck, it was all pheromones to me, "I don't even care."

John lie down against the pillows and sat the family photo face down on the nightstand before starting to pull off his clothes. I followed suit, making quick work of my jeans and t-shirt, just 'love is love' that was as pride-y as it got, but it made the point.

"Happy pride, baby." He wrapped his arms around me.

"Happy pride."

I kissed him tenderly and we made love in our bed, in our apartment, like married people do, with the excitement of parents with a night off, and relished in how lucky we were to be alive right now.


	12. Chapter 12

**Here's another prompt from the wonderful ChibiDawn23, they requested a peek at what life was like when little baby John from the Waiting in the Wings for You 'verse rolled into New York. Thank you so much for the prompt, this was a fun one.**

* * *

I had to slow down to pay the toll to get off the highway and my car stuttered, "come on, baby, come on, come on, almost there, just…" it died as I approached the toll booth, "come on! Are you fucking serious?"

Horns droned on at me and the woman in the toll booth looked at me in disgust, I stepped on the gas and managed to start my car up again, rolling it to the woman. She asked for my money and I scrounged change off the floorboards. Driving in the city was unlike anything the south had to offer, my poor car grunted the whole way, but only died once more. I didn't know where I was going, so I followed the struggling GPS on my phone to Broadway.

There wasn't street parking, I laughed at myself, "of course there's no street parking available, Jackie, it's fucking New York," I squealed in delight at saying it out loud, "I'm in New York, I'm here, I made it, I did it! New York!"

I found a paid lot and passed on it because… it cost… a whole hundred fucking dollars. I blew out a breath and thought about just abandoning my car, not like I'd really need it now. Because I was in New York. I was really here, and more importantly, I was seven hundred and forty-eight miles away from my dad. Sitting in Broadway traffic I realized how tired I was, and hungry, the trip had taken me fifteen hours and I was beat. Waiting for the light to turn and the traffic to move forward I reached into the 'family sized' bag of Sour Patch Kids I'd bought along the way, it was half gone now and tossed the yellow and green ones back in the bag, missing the traffic inching forward, getting honked at again. The next block had a lot for eighty bucks, that seemed way better and I went for it. First step was food. I needed food. There was a diner visible from the lot. I still had about two grand on me, thanks dad's 'secret' emergency stash. I could definitely spare enough for breakfast.

I went inside and sat down on cracked vinyl, an older woman greeted me, "coffee?"

"Oh, uh, no, thank you, ma'am, coke?"

She nodded and walked away, I looked outside at all the people, jumping when she brought my drink.

"What can I get you?" I noticed her accent and grinned, she sounded like New York!

"Biscuits and gravy, a full order, with eggs, and… and sausage."

"Don't do biscuits and gravy,"

I pursed my lips, I guess this wasn't the south anymore, but come on! I mean, this is New York, they have _everything_ here, don't tell me it's easier to get a shawarma than it is to get a damn order of biscuits and gravy, "pancakes, please, still the, um, eggs and sausage."

"You want two or four?"

"Four, please, and the eggs scrambled… with cheese."

I waited for my food to come out and pulled a notebook out of my bag and looked at the to-do list I'd made before I left.

 **Get A Job**

 **Find A Place to Live**

 **Go to shows on Bradway**

 **Kiss cute Boys**

I stared at the list and then realized my spelling error and tried to fix it, making the whole word unreadable. My food came out and I looked up at the waitress after thanking her, "do you, um, know where I could find a job?"

She chuckled softly, "with all that shit in your face, I'd say be a bouncer, but you probably weigh, what, a buck ten?"

I shrugged her off and frowned at my pancakes, spinning the hoop in my nostril with my finger absentmindedly. I spread butter between each layer of pancakes and then poured syrup until they started to fall apart. Then, I reached for the hot sauce and covered my eggs. The food was so good, it restored me, making me feel human again. I gulped at my coke, hoping it would give me energy, wishing I liked coffee just for the caffeine, usually I was energetic enough not to need coffee. Once I was done with my breakfast the waitress brought my check, I balked at the twenty dollar price tag, back home this would run me like ten dollars max… and there would've been biscuits and gravy, but this is New York. I repeated that to myself and counted out enough cash.

Outside people whirled around me and I wanted to break into song, but then I got shoved, not mean, just I was in the way, right. Gotta move fast here. I started walking toward one of the theatres and tried to open the door, ready to have my magic moment of the doors opening and then someone with avant garde fashion sense giving me a job. It was locked. No magic moment to be found.

Blowing out a breath, I gave myself a pep talk, "keep trying, keep trying, you're here, you made it."

I walked down the block and found another theatre and tried the door, it was locked.

"What are you doing, kid?" A man down a little ways with a cup of coffee in his hand and a badge around his neck squinted at me.

"I'm, um… well… I'm trying to get a… job…"

He laughed to himself, "I see. So you're just knocking on theatre doors until someone lets you be an actor. I like your panache, kid."

"Oh… I don't want to be an... actor. I want to be on the crew."

He quirked an eyebrow at me, "huh, you're lucky then, I'm the head light tech at this theatre. Say, where you from, kid, got a helluvan accent."

"I'm from South Carolina, sorry, uh, John Laurens." I stuck my hand out to shake his and he shifted his coffee into his other hand.

"Thomas Paine."

"It's nice to meet you, sir."

"Likewise, Mr. Laurens, gotta say, meeting someone from the south is a nice change of pace, everyone's an asshole up here."

"Everyone I know's an asshole too," I sighed, "are you really the head of lights? That's… my dream job.

"Sure am. Say, kid, how's about I take you out for a cup of coffee? Talk a little shop."

"Are you for real?"

"Yeah, why not?"

"Holy shit, I mean, yes, please."

He laughed and walked me further down the block and we turned in to a little cafe, he gulped down the rest of his coffee and approached the counter.

"What'll you have, kid?"

"Um… a small hot chocolate, please."

He ordered another coffee for himself and paid for us both. We got our drinks and sat at a table in the corner.

"Jesus, alright, so how'd you even wind up here?"

"I drove."

He lifted an eyebrow, "long drive."

I laughed, "my car's a total piece of shit, too. I'm amazed I made it."

"When did you get here?"

I looked at my watch, "two hours ago?"

"Goddamn, and you're already beating the streets?"

"Well, yeah, I mean, that's why I came here."

"Your folks know you're here?"

I stared into my mug, "not… really."

"I see."

"Yeah… that's kinda why I came. I mean, I really came because I want to be in theatre… I mean I have to be… but… that's why I left the way I did."

"Got it," he sighed, "where you staying?"

"In… my car? I haven't really figured that part out yet."

"Ah, Jesus, kid. Alright, I tell you what. You wanna see a show?"

I could feel my eyes lighting up, "of course!"

"I'll get you into the matinee, then how's about you come home and let my wife cook you dinner, stay with us for a couple nights."

"Whoa… are you… are you sure, sir?"

"Sir, psh, call me Tom. Yeah, I'm sure."

"Whoa…."

"Now, kid. I gotta ask you, did it hurt getting all that metal in your face?"

I laughed, "the nose was pretty rough… the top of my ear wasn't great."

"Goddamn, there's more?"

I laughed nervously and pulled my hair back to show off my ears, "yeah."

"Kids, these days." He said with a wink.

We went back to the theatre and he let me in the door behind him. I stared in awe at backstage, there was a real green room and dressing rooms and wigs on mannequin heads. He walked me back to a closet bursting with wires and cables and got a headset out, clipping it to his belt, putting the headset around his neck.

"Alright, kid, there's your backstage tour, go get your seat and come find me at the stage door afterwards."

"Thank you, Tom!" I did a weird bow-curtsy thing that I immediately hated myself for and then went to get my seat.

I stared at the playbill and wondered if my new friend was going to kill me. I mean, he could totally be a serial killer, but then I remembered the bruise on my ribs, my own dad could have killed me, so fuck it, fear is useless. I let out a breath and watched the show, crying almost the whole time. I, John Laurens, was watching a Broadway show, I'd made it out of South Carolina, and I was going to be alright.

Once the show was over I went to the stage door and waited, wondering if he would actually come out, just as I was starting to feel silly about waiting there, the door opened and Tom appeared.

"Hi! You're here. That's so awesome." I sighed with relief.

"Yup, I'm here, ready to get some food in your belly? I bet you're hungry after your trip."

"Yes… and… well, thank you so much. I don't know why you're doing this, but I'm really grateful and… just hope you don't kill me." I pulled at the string of my hoodie and mentally kicked myself for being so awkward.

"Wasn't on my agenda for today." He chuckled.

I followed him to the subway station, like a _real, actual_ subway station.

"You got an MTA card?" Tom asked me.

"Um… no… I've never taken the subway."

"Christ, kid, you're killing me." He wheeled around to a kiosk and showed me how to get a pass, I opted for a month long pass, again, horrified by how much money everything here cost.

We found a place to sit on the train and I was amazed that people could stand up, many of them not even holding on, it moved so fast, how do you not fall over?

Tom lived in a nice little apartment about fifteen minutes away from the theatre. He let me into his home and I was greeted with the smell of cooking food.

"Hey, Lizzie! It's me, I brought the kid with me."

A slender woman came through the kitchen into the entryway and I gasped, "you're… you're you, you're Elizabeth Ollive… The Elizabeth Ollive… one of the greatest producers of our time, and I'm in your house." _What the fuck! Don't do the weird bow-curtsy thing._

She dried her hands on the towel over her shoulder and reached to shake mine.

"Nice to meet you, John, right?"

"Yeah, that's me, John Laurens."

"Welcome, John. Please make yourself at home. Supper is almost ready. Nothing too fancy."

"That's plenty fine, ma'am, may I help you at all?"

"You cook?"

"I love to."

Tom piped in, "I'm starting to think that there's nothing this kid can't do."

Elizabeth Ollive… asked me to grate cheese for dinner. I grated it as if I were shaving gold or truffles or… something else really valuable.

"So, John, fill me in. Tom said you just got into town from South Carolina. What's the plan?"

I felt my cheeks flame red, "I'm just trying to find work. I really want to work in a theatre, but I'll do anything."

"He says you seem pretty driven, I have to say I agree."

"I just want more from my life than I was ever going to get."

"I admire that." She smiled sweetly and handed me a bowl of salad to set on the table.

Tom worked behind us to set the table. Elizabeth had prepared a lovely pasta with a light cream sauce with chicken and mushrooms, the salad, and a hearty, crusty bread.

"Thank you so much, both of you, for having me." I took a cautious bite of my food, feeling guilty for invading.

We all talked theatre and it seemed like I surprised them with my extensive knowledge especially compared to my lack of experience. I explained having to hide doing theatre and getting in trouble anytime that my dad found a script. They offered to let me stay in their guest room until I got on my feet.

"Tell you what, kiddo. Tomorrow, I'm going to talk to Ben and see what he thinks about giving me an intern, maybe even a paid one. How's that sound?" Tom suggested.

"Ben?"

"Yeah, Ben Franklin, that's his theatre I'm at."

"Oh, right, gotcha, wow, okay. Really? That would be amazing."

I helped wash the dishes after dinner and then they showed me to my room, it was small, but comfortable, a bed with a desk in the corner.

"Got what you need?" Tom asked in the doorway.

"It's perfect. Thank you, really. I still don't know why you're being so kind to me..."

He smiled at me, "these are the times that try men's souls. I was young and unemployed once, myself. I've been where you are. Goodnight, kid."

I smiled back at him, "goodnight."

He shut the door and by this point I was mostly convinced that I wasn't going to be killed. Elizabeth Ollive wouldn't kill someone. I balled up my fists to silently freak out that I was actually sleeping in Elizabeth Ollive's house and then stripped down to my boxers and tank top, falling into bed and sleep the deepest I think I ever had.

In the morning, I was offered a cup of coffee by Elizabeth and denied.

"You get into theatre and you'll like it," she smiled slyly.

"I don't know. I've always been pretty energetic," I shrugged it off and she laughed at my naivety.

Tom instructed me on where I could park my shitty car near their apartment and I rode the subway in with him to retrieve my car while he was at work.

"Alright, so, hopefully Ben agrees and lets me really make you my problem, other than that, you keep yourself busy for the day, alright? There's plenty to do. Go see the museums or something."

I nodded, "okay. Thank you. Thank you so much."

We parted ways and I managed to fire up my car, the gasoline smell permeating the vehicle. I was pretty sure that I knew how to get back to his place and I started the drive through the crazy traffic, Sour Patch Kids in hand. Once I'd found a place to park by the apartment I decided to hit the streets try to find a museum. I went down into the subway station that we got off at and then tried to find the right route to the museums… but it was down for maintenance, so I tried to find an alternate. I got on the train and hoped I was headed in the right direction.

I was not headed in the right direction. I took a different train and then just ended up finding it easier to walk the two miles. I stepped inside Central Park and looked around. It was so beautiful, this part looked like home a little bit… in the way that it had… trees. I found a bench to sit and pulled out my sketchbook, opening it to a page of my page sister, half sketched. I felt the homesickness set in and pulled my phone out, there were dozens of missed calls from my dad and my sister.

I really wanted to talk to Martha, to hear her advice and I called her from the bench overlooking a pond.

"Jack! Oh, my God, Jack. Where are you?" She cried into the phone.

"Hey, Martha… I'm fine, I'm… in New York. Sorry to scare you."

"Jack, when are you coming home?"

I heard my father's voice in the background, "is that John?"

"Yes, daddy, he's safe. I'm asking him when he's coming back." Martha replied, not particularly into the phone.

"He isn't!" My father boomed, "stealing from me, painting on my walls, painting p-pornography on my walls. This home no longer welcomes him."

"It's okay, Mar, I'm safe, I'm fine, I like it here." I tried to comfort her.

"I have to go, Jackie. I love you."

"I love you, too, Mar. Tell the kids."

"Of course."

I felt the tears starting and pulled my hood up, wanting a shroud of anonymity as I cried.

"Hey, this seat taken?" A man's voice startled me from my silent crying.

I looked up to see a young guy, little bit older than me, cheekbones sharp enough to cut and a strong upturned nose.

"No, I don't think anyone wants to really sit by me right now, though."

He sat down anyway, "you sort of looked like you could use a friend."

I sniffed to compose myself, "I'm John,"

He stuck a hand out, "Tadeusz, but just Tad is fine. Where are you from?"

"South Carolina," I noticed a strange accent in his own voice, "you?"

"Poland. The accent gives me away."

"How did you end up here?"

"Columbia. I'm a student, how about yourself?"

It sounded dumb in my head, "I came up here to find work on Broadway."

"Difficult job."

I smirked and nodded.

"What has you so down, my friend?"

"My dad's a piece of shit."

He quirked an eyebrow, "I see."

"I just… called home for the first time and… it didn't go super well."

"He does not approve of your being in the theatre?"

"That's putting it lightly…" I wondered if I could say that I was gay here, to this almost perfect stranger, if it was safe, fuck it, fear is useless, "he doesn't approve of anything I do, including like boys."

Tad chuckled to himself, "it's not an easy path, liking boys."

I laughed deep in my throat at this, "nope, it sure isn't. I don't want to talk about my shitty dad, what are you studying?"

"Ethnic Studies, basically just trying to figure out how to get racial equality."

I felt my eyes light up, "that's so cool. Don't go to the south… ever… it's not good down there."

"So I hear. Did you draw that?" He gestured to my sketchbook and suddenly I felt self conscious.

"Um… yeah, it's my baby sister."

"She's cute. You're very talented."

I smiled at the ground, "thank you."

"Would you like to go get some lunch?"

I thought about it, "um, sure. Yes, please."

We strolled to a nearby deli, he claimed it was one of his favourites in the area and we ordered our food, paying separately, even though I felt like I should probably pay for his because, well, was this a date?

"This has to be my favourite food right by campus. You have to try a bite." He held his sandwich out to me and I took a small bite, it was delicious and put my own sandwich to shame.

Throughout lunch we made small talk and then decided to go back to the park and take a walk, both of us talking about ourselves, he was interested in the military, still on the fence of whether or not he'd try to work alongside them in an equality coalition. I thought that sounded amazing. I wasn't sure what to talk about, not wanting to drone on about my shitty dad, but also not wanting to talk sports and come off like a total jock, that wasn't really who I was anymore. I mostly talked about my art and my favourite theatre shows and told him that I'd hopefully be apprenticing. We stopped on a bridge crossing one of the bodies of water and he took my hand, wheeling me around to face him.

"Would it… would it be alright to kiss you?"

I bit my lip and nodded, taking the initiative to peck at his lips, he was the first to part his lips and deepen our kiss. My stomach flipped and my hands found the small of his back, his hands settling on my hips, my backpack in the way.

Eventually we broke apart, "I can't believe we just did that. Out in the open, broad daylight. Holy shit."

"Welcome to New York," he took my hand again and we walked to the gates of the park where we exchanged numbers, I told him what theatre I was hoping to work at, knowing my dad would shut off my phone at any moment.

"I want to see you again." I said.

"I want to see you again, too, John."

I placed my finger under his chin and tipped his head back to kiss him one last time and then we parted ways, me doing my best not to jump up and down. I hurried back to the train station and went to the theatre to wait outside. I didn't care that I had to wait a few hours, I wanted to tell Tom, my only friend here, about what had happened.

Eventually he came out and I jumped up and down, "Tom!"

"Slow your roll, kid, hi, got good news for you."

This sobered my mind, "really? What did Mr. Franklin say?"

"You are officially my problem, Mr. Laurens. Go in for paperwork tomorrow."

"Oh, my God!" I hugged him, "oh, my God, thank you!"

"Easy kid, now what did you want to tell me so bad?"

"I kissed a boy! Just like in the movies, right in Central Park. In the middle of the day!"

"Look at you go! Come on, let's head home and you can tell Lizzie all about it."

Over dinner I eagerly filled my hosts in on the details of meeting Tad, that we wanted to see each other, that we held hands in the open and no one even said anything to us.

"That's wonderful, John, we are so happy for you."

"Thanks, and hey, I was thinking, um, since I have a job now, and you're letting me stay here for a little bit, I'm totally happy to pay rent to you."

"Tell you what, John. You cover your groceries and you're good to go." Tom winked.

"Are you for real?"

"Save your money to find a nice place of your own, John, it's tough out here." Elizabeth agreed.

"Thank you… I… wow! What a day!"

I did the dishes, feeling it was the least I could do and then went to take a shower, realizing just how dirty I felt. After I dressed myself in pajamas I pulled out my notebook and reviewed my to-do list.

 **Get A Job**

 **Find A Place to Live**

 **Go to shows on** **Bradway** **Broadway**

 **Kiss cute Boys**

I got a job, I found a place to stay for awhile at least, I saw a show, I kissed a cute boy. New York was going to be alright. I made myself sleep, wanting to be well resting when I started my apprenticeship as a light tech.


	13. Chapter 13

**Just a really lighthearted little fic because I don't know about you, but I could use a romantic pick me up. Thoughts on the pairing? 'Cause I think it's hella cute, just saying. Got a prompt? Send it my way.**

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Morning sunlight streamed through the open window. It was too hot to be the early morning sun, leaving me to wonder how late we'd slept in… I'd slept in. On our vacation. I realized that he was playing with my hair, me, still tucked against his side. Cozy. Loved. Lazy morning. I stretched and heard him giggle softly, I'd never understand why he thought my face when I stretched was cute, but I loved to hear him laugh like that. Shaking off the part of me that just wanted to stay in this moment and go back to sleep, I opened my eyes and saw him staring back at me. Dark brown pools.

"Good morning, mon amour." Lafayette pecked a kiss on my lips.

I couldn't help but smile up at him, curious as to just how long he'd been watching me sleep. He was usually much earlier to rise than I was, even now at twenty-six, I could sleep the day away just as easily as I could have at fifteen.

"Hi." I yawned.

"What would you like to do today?" He wound my curls around his fingers.

I traced the sharp edge of his beard, finely shaped as always, "do we have to do anything?" I wondered if that was a waste of vacation.

"Not if you do not wish to."

"I just want to stay in bed with you all day."

"That sounds nice, doesn't it? Shall I order us breakfast, love?"

I wrapped my arms around him and squeezed him tightly, "no, just stay here."

He giggled at my display, but sunk back into the bed, letting me curl up around him, tucking my head into the hollow just under his collarbone where my head fit so perfectly. Lafayette wrapped his arms around me, he was so strong, leaving me to feel tiny beside him.

Enjoying the moment, my eyes unfocusing on the trees outside as I traced the stripe of dark, curly hair that led from his chest, down between his abs, down past his navel, between his hips and back up again. His fingers were tracing the shape of my arm from shoulder to fingertip.

"Laf?" I mumbled.

"Hmm?"

"Maybe we can go to the fields you were talking about?"

He kissed the top of my head, "I would love nothing more than to show them to you."

I stretched again, "I'll have to put on pants."

"Modesty is the folly of modern civilization, no one will even know what they are missing, my John." He pushed the blanket down my hip and I felt him staring at me.

After an hour of distracting one another we got up and dressed ourselves. Lafayette donning linen pants and a half open shirt that showed not quite enough of his chest in my humble opinion.

"Come, love." He took my hand, kissed me cheek and pulled me along out the door of our Airbnb and into the bustling Parisian streets.

Our Airbnb was the top floor of a flat overlooking the glass pyramid of the Louvre. It was perfect, this part of the city was gorgeous. Lafayette led me into a cafe just down to the street where he ordered for us in perfect French.

I was easily distracted from my chocolate croissant by all of the sights and sounds and smells of Paris. People looking effortlessly perfect strolled by on their phones, carrying parasols, walking their dogs. I sighed, enamored by it all and let Lafayette, focused on navigating us while sipping his espresso, guide me by the hands down the street to the parking garage where we'd left our rental.

The tiny Fiat came alive with the push of a button and I watched the streets pass with my nose practically pressed against the window.

"If I would have known how endearing you would be, I'd have brought you home so much sooner." Lafayette laughed from the driver's seat.

"I just… It's so… It's amazing."

He shifted into a higher gear and put his hand on my thigh, rubbing carefree circles with his thumb and messing with the hem of my shorts.

"I am glad that you enjoy it so much."

I tried to read the street signs as we passed them, "hey! That one's Lafayette!"

He chuckled the sweet little embarrassed snort that he made when his name was in question, "there are many places that bear my name here, cher."

"Explain it to me again?" I pleaded, turning to look at him, tugging at one of the tight coils of hair he'd pulled into a puff on the top of his head.

Laf sighed, "my great great great great great… whatever, you get the picture, grandfather was the Marquis de Lafayette, he had at least a thousand names, even I do not keep them all straight, and I was named after him. Technically his name was Gilbert and he was the Marquis of Lafayette as a region, but my mother named me after him because of his tie-in to the American Revolution since she is so infatuated with America."

"So… how royal are you?" I toyed with his earlobe.

"I am not royal. We have not been royal… well, ever, it is more a title of distinguishment, but everything changed after the revolution."

"What did the revolution have to do with anything?" I squinted trying to compare American history to his bloodline.

"No, love, the French Revolution."

"Les Miserables."

He smirked, "more or less."

"Less singing." I stated as fact.

"Probably. Same homoerotic sexual tension, though." He winked at me.

"I mean… that's just how revolutions go. Is it even a revolution without a thinly veiled gay subplot?"

"Not a revolution I would want to partake in."

The city faded behind us as we drove to the countryside. Lafayette rolled down the windows and breathed in the country air, my curls flew around my face and I caught him grinning at me and felt heat rise to my cheeks. I pulled my hair back into a messy bun, spitting strands out of my mouth as I did so. It was so beautiful out here, there were rolling hills covered in blooming lavender and finally as we crested a hill, sunflowers. Yellow as far as the eye could see. I gasped and clutched Laf's thick arm.

"Baby, it's… beautiful."

He smirked back at me, I knew that you would love it here. I know the sunflowers are your favourite."

"Of course they're my favourite! Look how beautiful they are."

There was a shoulder on the road just big enough for the car and he pulled onto it, gravel crunching under the tires. We got out and he went to the back of the car, opening the little hatch and pulled out a basket and blanket while I shouldered my satchel.

"Where'd you get that stuff?" I quirked an eyebrow at him.

"I have my ways, dearest." He kissed my forehead and shuffled the blanket over to the hand already carrying the basket, closed the hatchback and then offered his free hand to me.

"I can carry something." I offered.

"No need. I have it all."

We walked at the edge of the sunflowers, it had turned into a perfectly warm, wonderful, sunny day. Lafayette found a large oak tree and spread the blanket out under the shade. The spot he picked overlooked a tiny pond and the fields of sunflowers.

I pulled off my Sperry's and sat down on the blanket, Lafayette crouched on his knees beside me and started sifting through the basket, retrieving a bottle of wine. He uncorked it and poured us both glasses. I sipped the wine and he tore a piece of fresh, still slightly warm bread from a baguette, passed it to me and then a small pot of butter, wrapped in cheesecloth. We spread the butter onto our chunks of baguette and ate and drank.

"I think all I've done is eat bread here." I laughed.

"Then you are doing something right." He winked.

"I guess so." I chuckled around a bite.

The butter was so fresh, so creamy and fatty, nothing like I'd ever had back in the states. If butter, _just butter,_ could be this good, not to mention the wine, the other food, the art, the city, the countryside, then I could easily see why Laf missed it so much when we were back in New York. After we ate our picnic I pulled my sketchbook out of my satchel, rolled onto my belly and started to draw what I saw. My sketching left me almost oblivious to Laf leaving until I noticed his walking down by the pond. I love him. I smiled to myself and started to work him into the sketch. He took long, languid, elegant strides which despite moving so slowly, carried him quickly around the water.

As I worked in oil pastels, he returned with two large sunflowers and handed one to me.

"Is this allowed?" I gasped despite my grin.

He shrugged, "if it is not, you will play stupid American. Any Frenchman would certainly believe you."

"Hey!"

"I'm teasing you."

He crawled up behind me and lie softly on my back, looking over my shoulder at what I was working on.

"It's very lovely, cher."

"Thanks, I had a wonderful model."

"Am I in everything you draw?"

I shook my head, "only the good ones."

"Hmm… sure." He reached around my chest and unbuttoned my shirt as far as he could.

"What are you doing?" I laughed at him.

"Take this off." He whispered into my ear.

"Alright, silly, okay." I sat up and unbuttoned the rest of the shirt and let it slide off my shoulders.

"Lie back down like you were. Keep drawing, I don't want to interrupt you."

I followed his instruction and continued to work the oil pastels into the paper. He took the sunflower he kept for himself and started to pull the petals off of it. Curious about what he was doing, I continued to work on my drawing. He tickled me with gentle sensations as he placed petals down my spine, across my shoulders, moving past my shorts, he continued down the backs of my legs, over my calves, down the arches of my feet,

"What are you doing?" I asked him.

"Making my own artwork." He grinned, proud of himself.

I tried to hold back my grin, but failed miserably, "see, now, I can't move, but I really want to just come kiss your face."

He bent down to kiss me softly, I pulled his chin closer to me and kept him in the kiss, our tongues softly meeting. As I kissed him, a gentle breeze blew around us, fluttering the pages of my sketchbook.

Lafayette complained in French, breaking our kiss, "I suppose you can move now,"

I pouted playfully at him, "all your hard work."

"It's okay, I still have my masterpiece."

He pulled me into his lap and I wrapped my legs around his hips and kissed him again lazily, nowhere else in the world to be. We stared out at the little pond, me leaning against his chest and I pulled a few long pieces of grass out from where they grew near the blanket and twisted them into a headband and ornamented it with the scattered petals and placed it on his head.

"For my king, or Marquis, or… prince… or whatever the gay revolution stopped you from being."

He laughed and worked to braid a crown for me. We sat together, wearing our crowns, drinking more wine and bread until we both felt heavy and silly and sang made up songs to each other. He pulled me up to stand and danced barefoot in the grass with me.

"I love you, Laf." I told him earnestly as we flopped back down on the blanket where I immediately moved to rest my head, still adorned with my crown, on his hip.

"I love you, Jack. So much." He balled my discarded shirt up and placed it behind his head.

"France is perfect."

"I know." He said it so dreamily.

"I'm a little drunk." I told him.

"As am I."

"We live in this field now."

"Only temporarily," he reached to rummage in the basket and pulled out a foil package, opened it and carefully handed me a heat-softened square of dark chocolate.

"You're a wizard! This is amazing, how did you, wow, I love you."

He smirked and took a bite out of his own square. I ran my finger through the melting square and swiped it across his bare chest and kissed it off of him. He shook his head and grinned at me.

"Brave move from the guy not wearing a shirt."

"You're barely wearing a shirt." I wiped the corners of my mouth.

He pinned me down and swiped melted chocolate over my neck and lapped it off, making me giggle wildly at the tickling sensation of it. I pressed what was left of the square between my fingers to melt it faster and streaked it across his mouth sloppily just to kiss it off.

"You're going to get us in trouble." He whispered into my ear.

By the time the sunlight was dying he was sober enough to drive. I helped him pack up our picnic and we drove back toward the city.


	14. Chapter 14

**A prequel set in my Waiting in the Wings 'Verse about a year before the first story takes place. A glimpse into the lives of Alex and Philip. I wrote most of this on my phone, in airports and in different countries so grace for autocorrect and typos is much appreciated. As always, reviews are basically as good as Blue Sour Patch Kids. Thank you!**

* * *

I answered my phone, putting it between my shoulder and ear, still working on notes to give to the cast.

"Hey, what's up, love?"

"Bored. Thinking about you," Thomas replied, yawning.

"You can come over if you want, I'm just wrapping some stuff from rehearsal." I was still distracted with my notes.

He let a little bit of whine into his voice, "or you could stop working for once and come over here."

"I've made it almost seven years without getting family services called on me, I don't think leaving Pip alone will help me continue the streak." I chuckled, glancing in my three ring binder for the other notes I'd made.

He sighed, remembering Philip, "right."

"But, hey, you can still come over here." I offered.

"Alright, I'll be there soon."

He hung up and I typed my notes from rehearsal and sent them to the cast, texted Lafayette to see if there was anything else that he needed. I'd scored a huge victory by Lafayette choosing me for stage manager. I was making real money with this gig. I wanted to do it justice.

The coffee from this morning was cold, but I poured myself another cup, waiting for Thomas. I hoped he'd stay, wanting a warm body to sleep next to more than anything. I slept better when he was near me, I almost never slept. When he knocked I let him inside and kissed him hello, shushing him since Philip was sleeping. We went back to my bedroom and he stumbled over Philip's firetruck which had been left out... _again_. It made noise and lit up, filling my small apartment with the sound of sirens. Philip came out of his bedroom, sleepy eyes lighting up when he saw Thomas.

"Thomas! Thomas!" Philip bounded over and hugged him.

"Hi, kiddo, you are supposed to be sleeping." He reminded Philip with a grin, ruffling his hair.

"But my truck made me be awake."

"That's why we shouldn't leave toys on the floor." Thomas chided him gently, squeezing him tightly.

"I know." Philip frowned, hanging his head.

"Go back to bed, Pip, it's late." I guided him by his shoulder.

"Tuck me in, daddy?"

I took his little hand in mine, "of course, baby."

Thomas let out a breath and shot me a look.

"I'll be right there, go ahead to bed." I told him over my shoulder, pecking his cheek.

Philip got back into bed and I tucked him in.

"I'm glad Thomas is here. He's so cool and I like his car."

"I know. He is pretty cool, isn't he?"

"Can he just live here? Sometimes he gets here late late late when you have sleepovers."

"I think he likes his apartment."

"Because it has an elevator?" Philip asked.

"Probably."

"Maybe some time we can live somewhere with an elevator. We have too many steps, daddy."

"Maybe."

"Is that why I go to abuela's apartment instead of her coming up here most of the time?"

"Yup, it's harder to go up stairs when you're old. But now you need to go back to sleep."

"Okay. I love you, daddy," Philip hugged me and I cherished it, his hugs were the best, the reason to keep going.

"I love you more, bud."

I shut his door and met Thomas in my bed, he was down to his boxers, absently twisting the curly hair on his chest while scrolling on his phone.

"Damn, T, you're quite the sight." I bit my lip, leaned against the doorframe and locked the door.

"Just waiting on you, Alex." His eyes were hooded with lust already, sending a ripple through my abdomen.

"Well, _somebody_ woke my kid up," I teased him, stripping out of my clothes, setting my glasses on the side table.

"It's not my fault he leaves toys all over all the time," he countered.

"It's fine, now come here, handsome." I got into bed next to him and kissed his neck.

Thomas held me, his tall stature dwarfing me. I liked feeling small next to him, feeling taken care of by him, it was a nice reprieve from my daily life, _hi, daddy issues, it's me again._

"You want me to fuck you?" Thomas asked. Sexy, lustful notes darkening his voice which ghosted hotly over the shell of my ear.

"You know it, just be quiet. It's gonna take Philip a while to get back to sleep."

"Being quiet's going to depend on you. I can barely contain myself with your tight, fat ass." He raked his teeth over my shoulder, making me gasp in pleasure.

I smiled to myself, still happily surprised that he found me attractive. Thomas pulled off his underwear and stroked himself, I bit my lip, staring. He was impressive, that much was undeniable. I lubed my fingers and worked myself open for him, keening against his side.

"Are you ready yet?" He asked me, slightly impatient, still touching himself.

I nodded and wiped the rest of the lube from my fingers onto his cock. Thomas gripped me by the hips and flipped me over, he was in that kind of mood tonight. I smirked, excited by the show of dominance. I buried my face in the pillows as he thrust into me, a little too quickly, making me yelp into the cotton.

"That's right," he bent over me and kissed my spine, his rough facial hair exciting the nerve endings, hand reaching up to knot in my hair.

I rocked back to meet his thrusts, this was the best part, the way we moved in synergy with one another, knew each other's bodies.

"I like that," I moaned in a whisper when yanked my hair sharply.

"You like when I remind you whose you are?" His grip tightened.

"Love it."

"Say it."

"I'm yours, Thomas, all yours." My voice muffled in the pillows.

"Damn right. So sexy, bent over like that, taking it. Taking my big cock. Mine."

I resigned myself to being his, graciously welcoming the relief it brought me. In this moment I didn't have to worry about whether or not we were out of peanut butter - which we were, needed to go to the store - or whether or not Philip's uniforms would be dry by the morning since the building super hadn't fixed the dryer yet. No, in this moment, all that mattered was Thomas.

"Tight, ass, fucking hot." He scratched his nails down my spine, making me arch my back, changing the angle of him within me.

I cried out, biting my knuckles to keep myself quiet.

"Please," I begged to him softly, "please don't stop."

"Greedy tonight, Alex?"

"Always, need you. Need more."

He changed the pattern of his thrusts, dragging them out, teasing me, reminding me who was in control. I wanted to taste him, to knot my fingers in his hair.

"I'll give you what you need, don't you worry."

"Want to kiss you, Thomas."

"Shh…" he gripped my throat just enough to make me see stars and my dick twitched in arousal.

I submitted to him and let him have his way with me, toes curling in relief when he reached down to stroke me. His fist worked my cock and I released, orgasm bubbling through me. I cried out softly. He didn't stop, still working me over, hunting down his own satisfaction. I tingled with overstimulation, wanting to dissolve in a puddle around him, walls quaking as he thrust deeper.

Thomas's short nails gripped my hips as he spent himself deep inside me. He pulled out and I flopped flat on the mattress with exhaustion and relief.

"Can you stay, baby? Please?" I asked him, not even ashamed of the pining in my voice.

"Sure, it's late anyway." He got up to go take a shower and I pulled my sweatpants on in case Philip came in.

Thomas was still in the shower when Philip crawled in bed with me, I'd dozed off and woke up to him snuggling against me.

"Daddy, Thomas isn't good at being quiet like you." Philip whispered.

I chuckled, "he's not, is he?"

Philip shook his little head, "he waked me up twice."

I yawned, "woke, Pip. Waked isn't a word."

"He woke me up twice. So now I need cuddles."

I closed my eyes again, holding my boy, "daddy always has cuddles for his baby."

"Why does he need to take a shower so late?"

"I don't know, Pip… I guess he felt... dirty."

"I love you, daddy," Philip reached up and scratched my goatee as he fell asleep.

I dozed off waiting for Thomas to get back, he finally did, still toweling his hair, a different towel around his waist. His eyes adjusted to the darkness and he noticed Philip, pursing his lips.

"He came in here?"

"Yeah, you woke him up...again," I sighed, knowing we'd be in for a long morning.

He pulled on his joggers, tossing his towels on the chair at my desk, "not my fault you two are the lightest sleepers in the world."

Thomas got in bed behind me and held me by the hip, "good night, Thomas. I love you,"

He swept my hair over my neck and nuzzled in, kissing the top of my back, "I love you, too, Alexander."

I jolted awake with my alarm and silenced it quickly, Thomas rolled over and covered his face with his arm. The anxiety and stress of the day to come hit me with Uma Thurman Pulp Fiction adrenaline force and I felt my muscles clench as the stress flooded me.

I slipped away from Philip, pulled a sweatshirt on, grabbed my glasses, and went out to the fire escape for my morning smoke. The city was waking up, it bustled with noise not loud enough to drown out my to do list; _hope Philip's clothes are dry, get him to school, come home, shower, change, breakfast with Thomas, sex if I'm lucky, get to the rehearsal space, meet with Laf, figure out blocking on scene fourteen, get Pip, fuck, right, pay that tax bill, shuffle around checking and savings, go to the store for… fuck me, I thought about it last night… something… something… I'll think of it, make dinner, homework, bedtime._

The to do list kept occupying my brain and I went inside to get dressed wake Philip up. Thomas slept on the other side of the bed, closest to the window, sunlight streamed in and illuminated him, his hair haloed around him. He held Philip in his strong, shapely arms, the tattoos that ornamented them highlighting the curves of his muscles. He was too damned handsome. I grinned at the sight while I got dressed and then crouched down to wake Philip up.

"Buenos días, mi amor." I cooed to him.

Philip squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head.

"Come on, baby, it's time to get up." I ran my fingers through his hair.

"No, daddy… sleepy."

"Come on, sleepy. You want froot loops?"

"Fine." He grudgingly got up and shuffled out to the living room and curled up under the throw blanket on the couch.

I made him a bowl of cereal, heated up a cup of coffee for myself and curled up to him on the sofa.

"Can we watch Scooby?" He asked in his sleepy morning voice, taking the bowl from me.

"Just one, bud, then we gotta roll."

"Okay."

I put cartoons on and we watched the gang solve a mystery while Philip ate. After he was done, I got up and checked his pants, by the grace of God they were dry. I handed them to him and helped him get his shirt on the right direction. He sat down and let me tie his sneakers for him, they were getting a little snug. We'd have to go shopping soon.

"Braids?" He asked as I grabbed the comb.

"Not today, boo, ponytail?"

"Bun?" He countered.

"Deal." I combed out his hair and twisted it up high on his head and secured it with one of the bands on my wrist.

"Can I put up yours?"

"Okay. Quick quick." I sat in front of him and he gathered up my hair and held out his hand for the other hair tie and looped it into a chaotic bun, missing some of the pieces.

"Thanks, Pip."

"'Course, daddy!"

"Alright, did you need me to sign anything?" I asked, zipping up his backpack.

"Nope!"

"You're sure? No repeats of the zoo trip?"

"No, daddy, no repeats."

"Alright, come on, let's go."

We made the commute to school and after a hug, I dropped him off. Back to the apartment. I needed more coffee. So tired from the late night I'd had. Workshopping a show was a long and meticulous process, I was lucky to be doing it with my best friend, but even still it took a lot out of me, and being the stage manager, Laf's right hand man, made it take even more. It was all I'd ever wanted though, and I'd done it. I was doing it, I was doing it and Philip was taken care of, happy, growing like a weed, I was holding down a relationship, Thomas and I were six months strong and… happy. Things were going alright… even if I was always tired.

I unlocked the door to my apartment, started a new load of laundry, washed the dishes, and went to my bedroom where I found Thomas still sleeping, now spread out in my bed. He looked so warm and inviting, I got in bed next to him and found my place at his side. A quick nap - so tired - a quick nap wouldn't hurt.

Thomas stretched beside me and I woke up at the movement, he chuckled at my flightiness, I couldn't help it, I was constantly concerned that I was late for something, had overslept, anything.

"Good morning, Alexander." He whispered in my ear, propping himself on his elbow and looking down at me.

Chills ran down my spine at the seduction in his voice and I reached up to stroke his face.

"How'd you sleep?"

"Just fine. Surprised you're still in bed."

"Oh… well, I mean, back in bed, I took Philip to school and did some stuff, but yeah, I was beat. Long night."

He brushed the hair away from my face, "I know it was."

I yawned, "are you working today?"

"Not until later, we've got a seven o'clock."

"Coming over afterwards?"

"Maybe, I don't know,"

"Okay… well… we always like having you."

"Yeah, you do. Thirsty."

I rolled my eyes and told him I was going to go take a shower. While I washed my hair an updated list of all the things that had to be done went through my head. There was still so much day ahead of me.

Back in my room, Thomas was dressed and getting ready to leave. I kissed him goodbye and saw him out. First stop was the grocery store. I called abuela to see if there was anything she needed and added adobo to the list.

At the store I perused the aisles, getting more oatmeal, milk, and peanut butter! That's what it was! Peanut butter. Frozen pizzas. I wasn't proud of how much packaged food Philip ate, but I hoped the fresh fruits and vegetables that I bought would help to counter some of it.

After lugging bags of groceries up all the flights of stairs to my apartment I put them away and changed over the laundry, hanging wet clothes up in the shower and over the fire escape, put away the dishes and put Philip's clean clothes away in his dresser. Our apartment was never _clean_ but I did my best to make sure it wasn't filthy. When it was time to get Philip I took the train to his school and picked him up. He held my hand on the way back home and told me about the things he'd learned in his day.

"...Cause they're carve-nivores, they eat people. Rawr! I'm a carve-nivore. But I would probably be pretty afraid if I ever really saw a Tyrann-nin-nin-osaurus Rex!"

"A Tyrannosaurus Rex? They're _carnivores_. They didn't live at the same time as people but they probably would have tried to eat people if they did live together." I spoke clearly to help him learn how to pronounce the words.

"They didn't?"

"Nope. Hey, what's a dinosaur that eats plants?"

"A herb-a-vore!"

"An herbivore. Good job. What about dinosaurs that eat plants and meat, like we do?"

"An…. omnivore?"

"Hey! That's my smart boy. Good job! Do you know why they're called that?"

He shook his head, "no, daddy, why?"

"'Omni' is a root word, like roots on a tree, so the root omni can grow branches and leaves like the words omnivore, omnipotent, and omniscient. It's Latin for 'all'."

"Latin?" Philip squeaked.

"Yup."

"That's cool, daddy. You're the smartest man in the whole world."

"I don't know about all that. Barack Obama's probably smarter than me, Neil DeGrasse Tyson, tons of people."

"Abuela says you're the smartest since you were the first person she ever knew in real life, not TV, to go to college."

"Abuela's sweet. I couldn't have made it through college without her though."

"Because I cried too much?"

"You were a good baby, Pip. You cried just the right amount."

We made it to our building and I knocked on Abuela's door.

"Hola, Alexito." She hugged me.

"Hola, abuelita."

Philip ran passed her and turned on the television.

"Hijo, are you eating?" She frowned at me.

"When I remember to." I admitted sheepishly, handing her the adobo seasoning.

"You look muy delgado. I'll make you some dinner."

"Gotta run, thank you, though. Please make sure he does his homework."

"Okay." She held my face and kissed both of my cheeks.

"Bye, buddy!" I called to Philip.

"Bye, daddy!"

I went to the rehearsal space where Lafayette was workshopping his show and found him at the folding table he was using as a desk. The actors were working with each other on blocking.

"Hey, Laf, sorry I'm late."

"You are fine. How is the Pip?" Lafayette leaned on my shoulder, exhausted.

"He's fine, learned about dinosaurs."

"A wonderful topic. And how is my connard cousin?"

I shoved him playfully, "be nice. Thomas is a good guy."

"Since when?" Lafayette rolled his eyes.

"You're just jealous that he got the looks in the family."

"Oh, please. I am gorgeous."

"Yeah… but Thomas is… hot."

"Rude."

We ran scenes, Laf making little changes here and there. He and I stayed after releasing the actors to talk about the big changes that needed to be made.

"I want the costumes to look authentic. Do we know anyone?" Lafayette chewed on the end of his pen.

"There was that dude I had a semester with… some douchey god name… Prometheus? No… that wasn't it. Hermes? No… fuck… what was that dude's name? Big, black dude… Hercules! Um… Mulligan. He does really good shit. I'll hit him up."

"Worth a try." Lafayette shrugged.

"How's the rest of the crew coming along?"

"Well… I'm pretty sure that Washington's theatre is a good to go."

"Holy shit, are you for real? I've always wanted to do a show there."

"Don't get too excited. But, I believe so."

"Laf! Dude, hell yeah!" I hugged him.

"Their in-house team is great, too. They have the best electrician I have ever seen. The things this man can do with a gel… it's impressive."

"Sounds like ole Lafie has a crush on the light boy."

"Ew, please, he's just a good person. Honestly surprised you haven't met him. It's not like the theatre world is _that_ big."

"You forget that I literally never go out. Kid at home. All that jazz."

"How is mon petit?"

"He's good. You should come over soon. Been a minute since he got to see you."

My phone buzzed and I looked at it, it was a facetime request from Thomas. I answered and held the phone up so that me and Laf were both visible.

"Why am I not surprised to see you, Lafayette?" Thomas smirked.

"Because your boyfriend is a hard worker and you know it."

"Whatever. Babe… come over. I miss you." Thomas pouted, brown doe eyes melting me.

I turned to Laf, "are we done here?"

He nodded, "go on, I just don't want to hear about it."

"Just for a little bit." I told Thomas.

"Mhm." Thomas agreed.

"Come pick me up?" I asked.

"I'm already home," Thomas hung up.

I started to pack up my things, Lafayette looked at me, "is he… is he good to you?"

"What? I mean… yeah… he really likes Philip and Philip loves him, so, I mean, yeah… We have really good sex, it's… yeah."

"Alex… Is he _good_ to _you?"_

"I… yeah, Laf. It's good. I'm happy."

Lafayette nodded skeptically, "alright, friend. I love you."

"Love you too, Laffy Taffy."

He rolled his eyes at the nickname that had stuck since college and I swung my satchel over my shoulder and walked outside, lighting a cigarette. It wasn't too far of a walk, but it would have been so much easier if Thomas could have just picked me up. He had a car. That's what cars are for. No. It was stupid of me, this is New York, a city of walking. I could just walk, his apartment wasn't that far away, I was just lazy.

I rang the buzzer and he let me in. I hugged him and he winced.

"You smell like smoke."

"Yeah… that would be from the smoking."

"God, I wish you'd stop that."

"Me too, but there's only so much shit I can handle and it's cheaper than therapy."

Thomas' apartment was gorgeous, well maintained, opulently decorated, I felt out of place every time that I stepped foot in it. It was nothing like my place, no fire trucks in the hallway, ninja turtle underwear discarded in the middle of the living room floor.

I let Thomas lead me to his bedroom where we fucked in his giant, plush bed. I fell asleep while he was in the shower without realizing it and jolted up when he walked back into the bedroom, twisting his hair back into the scarf he slept in.

"I had to get rid of that smoke smell." He said with a tinge of disgust.

"I have to go." I hurried to put my clothes back on, stumbling into my jeans.

"Just stay, Alex. He's fine, he's with your grandma."

"No, no, that's not the point, I know he's fine, shit, shit, she's not responsible for him. I… fuck. I have to go… can you please just drive me home? It's so much quicker, baby, please?"

"Alex, come on. I'm so tired. It's not like the train actually takes that much longer."

"Dammit, Thomas can you just please help me with this? It's late, I really don't want to be on the subway at this hour, the last thing I need is a drunk guy to pee on me. Please, baby?" Tears of frustration stung my eyes.

He stepped into his pants and rolled his eyes, "well, come on then, Jesus, if you're gonna fucking cry about it like a baby."

"Thank you! Thank you so much. I'm so sorry. Thank you." I wiped my eyes quickly with the sleeve of my hoodie, feeling stupid for getting so worked up.

Thomas drove me back to the Heights, fingers drumming on the wheel the whole time. I could feel his annoyance.

"Do you… wanna stay?" I asked him.

"Not really, you're just going to go to bed."

"Okay… well… good night. Thanks again,"

"Yeah."

I got out at my building and waved a goodbye to him as he peeled out, tires squealing away. Using the spare key that Abuela had given me, I unlocked her apartment and found it empty. _Dammit._ I climbed the rest of the stairs to our unit and unlocked it. She slept sitting up on the sofa.

"Mamá, go home. Lo siento, lo siento. I'm so sorry." I stirred her.

"Oh, Alexito, you had me so worried. ¿Estás bien?"

"I'm fine, abuelita. You should go to bed. You can stay in my bed if you want."

"No, no, me voy a casa."

"Okay, but at least let me walk you."

I took her bag and helped her up from the old couch. Moving at her pace, I guided her down the flights of stairs by the elbow and got her safely to her door.

"There's ropa vieja in the ice box. You're too skinny, amor." She said, unlocking the door to let herself in.

"Muchas gracias, abuelita. Muchas gracias por todo."

"Ay, Alexito, de nada, hijo. Te quiero mucho."

"Te quiero, abuelita. Buenas noches." I shut the door and went back upstairs.

This night hadn't gone how I'd meant for it to. Thomas was pissy, I'd asked too much of abuela. I felt like shit and was mad at myself. I went to my bedroom and kicked my jeans off, threw myself in bed, hugged the pillow that smelled like Thomas and cried, trying to be quiet enough not to wake Philip. At least here in the dark, all alone, no one was there to see me making a fool of myself as I wept like a stupid, ugly child. I cried myself out, feeling like the biggest disappointment to everyone I knew, trying to remember the coping skills my therapist in college had taught me for when my anxiety got this bad. Big deep breaths, in, hold, out. In, hold, out. Just breathe. Breathe. Breathe.

There would be no sleeping tonight, no matter how exhausted I'd made myself crying so I quietly set up my keyboard, moving papers off my desk. I plugged in my headphones and started to play the melody that I'd been chasing since college and sang along quietly.

"It's me, I'm the biggest disappointment you know… something… she's back and she's walking really slow, welcome home, breathe, just breathe… be brave, you're gonna be fine I was the one who made it out, the one who always made good… grades…" The anxiety wasn't done with me and I dissolved into silent tears in front of my keyboard.

 _Thomas hates you._

 _Abuela hates you._

 _Lafayette's only your friend because he feels sorry for you._

 _Philip's going to turn out just like you did._

I tried to push away the thoughts that my anxiety presented as fact, but they were so compelling. What if it was all true? What if I was as bad as my brain would have me think?

I wanted to call Thomas, wanted to hear his voice and ask him to come over, wanted to feel his arms around me making me feel small and safe, but I knew better than to call him after I'd already proven to be such a nuisance tonight.

Once this wave of crying had subsided, I went to the kitchen and brewed myself a fresh pot of coffee, entranced by the way the machine sounded as it brewed. Philip was sleeping peacefully in his room. With any luck raising him was the one thing I was doing mostly right. It was the only thing that I had to get right. I'd never forgive myself if I let him down.

Like I did on most nights where sleep evaded me, I took my coffee and went to the fire escape where I smoked until sun up. The sky started to lighten, casting the GWB in pink and orange. It was a beautiful morning, but it was morning nonetheless. My day was starting. I sipped my coffee.

"Wake up, poquito." I rubbed Philip's back and he rolled over.

"No, come on," I chuckled.

"No." He huffed, covering his head with the blanket.

"Pip, we gotta get ready for school."

"No." He said more forcefully.

"Philip, come on."

"I won't."

I left his room, tossed my shirt in the hamper, went back to Philip's room to wake him up for good this time.

"Philip, I need you up now."

He shook his head, long curls bouncing everywhere.

"Philip, let's go!" Frustration crept into my voice.

"Sleepy!"

"I'm sleepy too, suck it up and get up."

"But, daddy."

"Philip, no buts, now get your _butt_ out of bed and let's get on with our morning."

"Too sleepy. Tried to stay up and wait for you to get home."

"You know the rules when daddy is late with… work, you go to bed anyways. If you're tired that one's on you. Now get up."

"I just wanted to cuddle with you… but you were too late."

"I'm sorry, baby. I'll be home on time tonight. Now will you please get up?" I took a drink of coffee.

He sat up and yawned, wiping his sleepy, little eyes.

"Good job, boo, now I need you to get dressed. Granola bar today, okay?"

"No, daddy, I want froot loops."

"Should have thought of that before you stayed up all night."

"But I didn't."

"Nope, so now the consequences are that you don't get cereal."

I turned to walk out of his room when Philip got up and put on clean underwear and started to pull on his pants when he muttered under his breath, "daddy never lets me…"

I spun on my heel, "what was that?"

Philip's eyes went wide, "uh… nothing."

"Mhm, that's what I thought. Cut the shit, Philip, daddy's not in the mood today."

He hung his head and I left the room, hearing him cry. My hand tightened into a fist that I knocked against my forehead, tears in my own eyes… again. I went to my room and pulled yesterday's jeans on, still listening to Philip cry. _Goddammit._

 _This is what a shitty father you are. James? Oh, no that's Alex, couldn't tell the difference from how trash you are at being a dad._

That was enough, we didn't handle things like this in my house. We were better than that. We were Pip and daddy, I could man up and call myself out for being an asshole. That was something my father never managed to do.

I went back to Philip's room and saw him sitting on his bed, crying alone like I had all last night.

"Hey," I crouched down in front of Philip.

"I'm sorry I'm bad. I was just sleepy!" Philip sobbed.

"Hey, hey, hey, no, shh, you aren't bad, Pip. Look, daddy's having a grumpy morning, I didn't mean to be mean to you, baby. You're a good boy, the best. Daddy's grumpy. I'm really sorry I was mean."

He traced the tattoo on my chest while I spoke and I clutched his tiny hand to my heart.

"You still love me?"

"Oh, baby, always. Daddy always loves you. You're my best guy."

"I'm sorry I didn't get up."

"Shh, baby, it's okay, it's over, daddy was just being a jerk."

"I love you, daddy."

"I love you with all my heart, Philip. You are the greatest thing that ever happened to me. You want me to braid your hair today?"

"Won't that make us late?"

"Yup."

"It's bad to be late."

"It's okay sometimes."

We went to the bathroom where Philip sat on the toilet while I plaited his hair back. He had the most gorgeous hair. I couldn't believe that I helped make a human so perfect.

"Only three, buddy." I told him, trying to lower his expectations.

"But oncle does like a million."

"That's his super power,"

"I wish it could be your super power."

"Yeah, me too. But three's pretty good, right?"

"Pretty good, daddy." He hugged my thigh and leaned his head against my hip.

"Sit up tall, mi amor."

Philip straightened up and I finished braiding his hair.

"Daddy, I look so pretty!" He admired himself in the mirror after I'd finished.

"You're always pretty, Philip, you look fancy, though."

"Yeah, really fancy."

"Ready to go to school?"

"Ready, daddy."

We left our building and Philip took my hand. It was so little, but getting bigger every day. It was a pretty morning and we walked to school, saying hi to our neighbours getting their days started. There was a bustle unique to our neighbourhood where horns honking were more a hello than anything else, where Latin music flowed from open shop doors, where the percussion of grates rolling up as business started was our 808.

I hugged Philip goodbye at school and went back home to clean the apartment before getting together with Lafayette and further discussing set design and blocking.

While I was washing dishes Thomas called me, I answered with a soapy finger tip and put it on speaker.

"Hi, babe!" I answered.

"Hey. What are you doing?" He yawned, probably still waking up.

"Just doing some dishes. What's up?"

"Come over, I'm still naked."

"That sounds nice, I have to go meet with Laf, though."

"You're lucky I'm not the jealous type, amount of time you spend with him." I could almost hear him rolling his eyes.

"Sorry to disappoint. Dinner tonight? I'm making…" I thought over what was in the freezer, "fish sticks."

"I think I'm good. I'll come over afterwards."

"Okay, okay, yeah, that sounds great. I don't mind feeding you, really. Pip would love to see you."

"He'll see me and I won't have to eat fish sticks. Everyone wins."

"Okay, whatever you say. I thought you liked fish?"

"Yeah, real fish, not that processed shit. Anyway, gotta go. See you tonight."

"Okay… cool… well, I guess I'll, I'll see you tonight. Love you."

"Okay, bye." He hung up.

I bit my lip hard enough to stop myself from crying and dried the dishes. There was nothing I wanted more than to have Thomas commit to our family. Philip loved him so much, I wanted him to be our missing piece. More than that, I was tired of not being good enough for him. Never being good enough for him. Always living in the shadow of being a place holder until someone better came along.

Lafayette and I met up at a coffee shop where I got an obscene amount of extra shots of espresso.

"Rough night?" Lafayette asked around the chocolate croissant he was eating.

"I'm fine. Let's just get to work, yeah?"

"Alright, dear one. You know I worry."

"I'm fine, I'm just tired." I tore at a scab with my teeth to stay focused.

"Okay, okay, well do you think some good news would help you feel better?"

"It's worth a shot." I shrugged, tasting blood.

"We got the theatre."

"Are you serious? Laf, are you fucking serious?"

"Cross my heart!" He broke out into a grin that swallowed half his face.

I grabbed his hand across the table and kissed the back of it, "holy shit. We fucking did it! You did it, Laf."

"Want more good news?"

"I don't know if I can handle even more."

"We got an opening date. Seven months and we're on Broadway."

I let out a deep breath, "holy shit. It's getting real."

"I know. Let me know if there's anyone you for sure want on your team."

"Will do. There's some young kids fresh out of college I want to help give a boost. Think you and Thomas can work a show and not kill each other?"

Lafayette made a face, "he's not even that good of a stagehand."

"Come on, Laf. He's good. He's strong."

"Only because I love you… and he's family."

"I love you, too. Who are we keeping from the cast?"

"In general? I don't know… there's a lot of talent in that room."

"Lots in the pit, too."

"That is the truth."

We talked through the afternoon and through plenty of coffee. I checked the time and realized that I needed to go get Philip.

"Wanna come get Pip with me?"

"You going to feed me dinner?" He quirked an eyebrow.

"Always. Come on."

We gathered our papers back into our bags and went to the school. Philip squealed when he saw Lafayette and leapt into his arms.

"Oncle Laf!" Philip giggled, petting Lafayette's beard.

"Hello, mon petit. How is my favourite boy?"

"I'm good. Are you coming home with us?"

"Of course!"

Philip's eyes sparkled with joy, "is Thomas?"

Lafayette looked at me asking a silent question. I pressed a tight smile and shook my head.

"Just me, Pip. Am I not good enough for you?" Laf tickled him, distracting him. I was grateful.

Philip giggled and forgot to be disappointed. I wanted to forget my own disappointment. We walked home, Philip on Laf's hip, telling him about school far too fast for Lafayette - or anyone but me - to comprehend.

When we got home Lafayette helped Philip with his homework and I went to the kitchen finding a pan of enchiladas I hadn't seen before. I set the oven and waited for it to heat up before sliding the pan inside. While they heated through, I made rice and tossed a salad for us all and placed it on the table, handing Philip three place settings to set the table with.

I placed the hot pan on a towel in the middle of the table as well as the pot of rice and served Philip and Lafayette and then finally myself. Lafayette smiled contentedly after his first bite. My abuelita could cook.

We ate our food happily and told Philip the exciting news about our show.

"I want to come to the theatre!" He declared, rice in his mouth.

I smoothed back his hair, "you will, mi amor, you'll come so much you'll be sick of it, but don't talk with your mouth full."

Lafayette told Philip more about getting the theatre and we talked through our meal.

"Alex, I can wash the dishes. You fed me dinner. It's only fair." Lafayette offered, clearing the table while I wrapped up leftovers.

"No, Laf, it's fine. I'll do them in the morning."

There was a knock on the door and Philip rushed to answer it when he heard Thomas speak a greeting on the other side.

"Thomas! Thomas! Oncle Laf is here." He took Thomas by the hand and pulled him into the kitchen.

"Hey, Laf." Thomas nodded.

"Thomas," Lafayette smiled.

Lafayette followed Philip to play in his room and give me and Thomas a moment alone. I poured myself a cup of coffee and Thomas came up behind me, enveloping me in his strong arms, I felt myself melt.

"You're really drinking that now? You'll be up all night."

"No. No. I'll sleep. I was up all night last night. This'll just help me stay up long enough to put Pip to bed."

He huffed and let me go, "I don't know what's wrong with you."

I pulled another mug down and made a cup for Lafayette, who I heard screeching as my son undoubtedly assaulted him. I smiled to myself. Lafayette was made to be an uncle.

"I don't know either."

He looked at the dirty dishes, "your grandma made dinner? She's such a good cook. I'd have actually come over for that."

"Sorry you missed out. There's some leftovers."

"Good. You can make me breakfast."

My stomach filled with butterflies, "you're staying?"

"I don't see why not."

Thomas twisted my hair around his fingers and I nuzzled against his touch, he tugged it just enough to sting a little and I muttered an 'ouch'. He chuckled to himself.

"You're so cute when you yelp like that."

I picked up the coffee mugs, "well… yeah… that kind of hurt."

He leaned down and kissed my cheek.

We went to the living room and I called for Lafayette and Philip. We turned on a Land Before Time movie and Laf sniped something under his breath at Thomas when he complained about watching a kid's movie. I gulped my coffee down in a few drinks and cuddled against Thomas, Philip sat contentedly in front of Lafayette and let him do his hair.

"What did you do to this poor child's head?" Laf laughed, unbraiding my feeble attempts.

"Hey, we were short on time." I shrugged.

"My daddy did his best." Philip said staunchly.

"That's right, baby. You tell 'em."

"I mean, Lafayette is right. You didn't even do the right type of braid." Thomas agreed.

Lafayette tented his hands, set his jaw, and took a deep breath, "Thomas, just be quiet. I promise that the world will not stop spinning if you are silent for just a moment," he muttered under his breath, "le con."

"Chill, dude. It's not even a big deal," Thomas pulled me against him, "Alex knows I was kidding. Right, Alex?"

Of course he was kidding, but I bit hard on my lip and forced a smile to fight the instinct to cry like a stupid, fucking kid, I was just so tired and raw lately, "yup, just kidding."

Halfway through the movie I fell asleep on Thomas' shoulder, breathing in the scent of his cologne. I wanted his arms around me, it was cold in the living room. I wanted so badly to be held.

Once the movie was over, Thomas nudged me and I bolted upright, coming to in an instant. Philip slept in Lafayette's arms and Thomas was on his phone, he quickly switched from a messaging app that I pretended not to see.

"I should get going," Lafayette yawned.

"Okay, let me take him." I got up from the couch and took Philip into my arms.

Lafayette stretched, "my arm went to sleep."

"Mine too," Thomas agreed.

"Sleepy little Hamiltons." Lafayette grinned.

I looked at Philip's hair and saw the beautiful, perfectly straight rows plaited in his hair, "Laf. Thank you. You killed it."

"Of course. Night, Alex." He kissed my cheek.

"Night, Laf. See you tomorrow."

"Thomas," he curtly nodded.

Thomas gave him a nod in return.

I put Philip in bed and tucked him in. Thomas waited in my bed in just his boxers and a t-shirt. I kicked my jeans off and got in bed with him.

"Can we just go to sleep tonight? I'm really tired."

"You're always tired. What makes tonight different?"

"Please, baby? I just want to go to sleep."

"Fine, but you owe me."

"Of course. I'm sorry. Thank you."

I fell asleep but slept restlessly, tossing and turning throughout the night, waking up to check the time, certain I'd overslept. When I woke up to my alarm I quickly silenced it and got dressed and went to start the process of waking Philip up.

He sat up and looked groggily at his uniform.

"I'm gonna go smoke and I want you dressed when I get back, ¿Claro?"

"Claro." He mumbled.

The nicotine hit me and I felt the endorphins kick in, perking me up. I had to call the costuming guy today. I had to remind the super about the dryer, I had to give the Solarios their Tupperware back from last weekend, meet up with Laf, hopefully with a yes or no from the costume guy. Another puff on my smoke and I ashed it. Philip was dressed and sat waiting at the kitchen table.

"Good job, buddy. Froot loops?"

"No, tater tots."

I laughed without humour, "good try. Froot loops or yogurt?"

"Yogurt."

I got him a yogurt and coffee for myself and we sat on the couch watching old episodes of Looney Tunes together.

"Why doesn't Thomas watch cartoons with us?"

"He's sleepy like a bear in the morning."

"Is he gonna be my other daddy?"

"Eat your breakfast, baby." I kissed the top of his head and sipped my coffee.

Another day to keep pushing through. So tired. I walked down the street on my way home from Philip's school and saw Sonny, the lost kid of the neighbourhood, glad he was there to take the heat off of me. He sat on the stoop of a brownstone, biting his thumbnail and tapping his foot. I smiled down at him.

"This seat taken?" I asked.

He ripped out his headphones, his bruised, cracked knuckles not escaping my attention, and looked up at me, "huh, uh, no."

I sat down beside him, "rough night?"

"I'm fine."

"Of course, you're fine, be fine is what we do in the Heights, doesn't mean it wasn't a rough night."

"Yeah, I guess, man, I don't know. My moms, bro, she kicked me out again."

"You staying with your cousin?"

"Nah, man, fuck that, he's all like judgy and shit. I'm fine on my own. I gots this. I don't need him," his voice wavered, chin trembling almost imperceptibly, "man, I don't need nobody."

I lit a cigarette and took a drag, "sure is nice to have people, though, isn't it?"

"I don't know."

"Come over for dinner, there's plenty to eat."

He set his jaw and looked at me with a frown, "yeah?"

"Yeah. I'll see you tonight. Gonna be alright, kid." I squeezed his shoulder, wishing he'd just let me hug him.

"Thanks, Alex, man."

I flicked my cigarette butt on the ground and stomped it out, before continuing the walk home. Plates clattered as I reached into the cabinet to retrieve one to heat breakfast up for Thomas. With his plate in the microwave I worked on the dishes from the night before. After the microwave beeped I went to my bedroom and found him sleeping. He looked so much sweeter in his sleep. So much softer.

"Hey, love. Wake up. I made you breakfast."

He sat up and wiped a hand over his face, nodding.

"I'll be there in a minute."

While he got himself up I tidied the living room, putting Philip's things neatly in his room, made his bed, went back to the kitchen to pour myself another cup of coffee and start a fresh pot. Thomas sat waiting at the table.

"Oh, sorry, I didn't realize you were out here already." I went to the microwave and got his food out and set it in front of him.

"You're not eating?" He asked incredulously.

"Nah, just coffee."

"You don't need it, anyways." He reminded me, squeezing my ass.

"Yeah. Right. True. Anyways, what's your day look like, babe?"

"Got an early show. I'll come over afterwards. Still wish you could come to my place."

"Yeah, I know, me too, but Philip."

He mouthed but Philip at the same time I said it as if it were a line in a script he'd memorized, but it was true, my son was always my reason for coming home.

"You know your Ebola would watch him."

"Mi abuela? Yeah, well, he's not her responsibility."

"She wouldn't even notice."

"That's not the point, T. He's my son. He's my responsibility, besides, I don't like being away from him.

"Yeah, well. I'll see you tonight. Food was good."

"I'm glad. See you tonight."

He got up and gripped my arm tightly, pulling me a little off balance to pull me against him and kissed me.

Laf and I worked through the day again, posted up in a coffeeshop by the theatre that would be his show's home. He took a bite of his chocolate croissant and wiped the corner of his mouth.

"Did you get ahold of costume guy?"

"Yeah, he wants to meet with us."

"When?"

"I don't know, I said I'd talk to you."

"Well, see what he's doing right now." Laf's eyes sparkled in excitement over this project coming together.

I chuckled and pulled out my phone to call him.

"You want some of this?" Lafayette asked me, taking another bite.

"Nah. It's not like I need it." As my phone rang in my ear, I realized that those weren't my words.

Lafayette rolled his eyes and took another bite.

"Hello?" Hercules Mulligan answered the phone.

"Hey, yeah, it's Alex Hamilton. Look, I know it's not like, super professional but Lafayette wanted to meet you today, if you're free."

"Dude, I mean, sir. I'm definitely free. Where's your office?"

"I mean, currently our office is inside Ground Central."

"The… coffee shop?"

"Uh… yeah, but I promise we're legit."

"Yeah, yeah, no, for sure. Give me half an hour."

"Great, we'll look forward to seeing you."

I hung up and frowned at Laf, "I suck at those kinds of calls."

"I think you did just fine."

We worked until Hercules arrived, grey beanie adorning his head, satchel at his side. He had a stocky frame, about my height, Lafayette gulped beside me and shook his hand while we made introductions.

"I think your pants look hot." Lafayette said a little too quickly, cheeks burning red.

"Oh, thanks, I made them."

"You're hired." Lafayette's voice was squeaky.

"Hercules, can I get you something to drink?" I tried to pull the focus off of Lafayette.

"Something caramel, sweet, I'm not picky."

Lafayette looked like he was going to explode and I clapped his shoulder as I passed him.

I went to the bar and ordered a drink for Hercules and rocked back and forth from my heels to my toes. I really hoped that this meeting would go well, we could use a good costumer.

The barista handed me his drink and I sat back at the table where hercules talking about his resume.

"Oh, thanks so much." Hercules drank the frilly, sweet drink and I looked on in horror from over the rim of my strong, black coffee.

"Hercules was telling me about his experience dressing King Lear."

"Oh, right on. What other shows have you dressed? Er… better yet, what was your favourite?"

"Gentleman's Guide to Love and Murder was a lot of fun. There's so crazy quick changes."

"That sounds like a lot of fun." Laf agreed.

I couldn't distinguish whether Lafayette was purely intrigued or if he was flirting. The beauty of Lafayette was how much the two looked alike.

We continued our interview with Hercules and ended up offering the position to him.

"If you can just send me your IATSE union papers I'll get stuff rolling to the right people." I told him.

"Great, yeah, I can do that tonight." Hercules beamed, adjusting his beanie.

"Fantastic! Well, guys, I actually have another meeting I need to run to, but this has been great." I pushed my chair in.

The appointment was picking up my son, but I didn't like exploiting that, I didn't like that some people thought it made me look lazy.

Philip's teacher released him to me and we took the bus home. Himself and his clothing was stained pink.

"What did you get into, hijo?"

"Popsicle. It was super tasty and real sticky."

"Yeah. Should we get you home to put new clothes on?"

"Mhm."

"Hey, Sonny's gonna have dinner with us."

"Thomas?"

"Mhm."

"Yay!"

Philip skipped ahead of me on the sidewalk, but where it filled with people he quickly waited for me and took my hand. I started dinner, the apartment filling with the smell of rice. Before going out for a smoke I set plates and silverware on the table and called for Philip to set our places.

The cigarette was divine. I inhaled the sweet, fragrant, herby smoke and my body tingled with the rush of nicotine. I'd never quit, no matter how much I wanted to.

"Daddy!" Philip yelled, "daddy! Door!"

I ashed my cigarette and hurried inside to open the door for Sonny.

"Hey, man. Thanks for y'know, having me over."

"Of course. Now let me see those hands. Pip can you get the first aid kit for daddy?" I sat Sonny down at the kitchen table.

Philip rushed to retrieve the kit from the bathroom and set it on the table.

"Wanna tell me about this?" I inspected the bruised skin around the cuts.

"I dunno, man."

"Sonny, who was on the other side of this?"

"A dumpster outside the bodega." He hung his head.

"You're a smart kid. You need to find a different place to put that anger." I dabbed at the cuts with peroxide and he bounced his knees at the sting.

"Yo, Alex, it wasn't a person, man. I'm not trying to start no more fights or nothin',"

"It's a start."

I spread antibiotic cream over the clean cuts and instructed Philip to put the kit away while I finished dinner.

"Is Thomas, it's Thomas, right? Is he coming over?" Sonny asked, eyeballing the extra place setting.

"That's the plan."

"It's cool you got a guy, bro." Sonny smiled with a tinge of hope. I suspected he was gay, that it probably had something to do with his troubles at home and the anger inside him. It would get so much easier when he accepted it.

"Yeah, it is."

As if on cue, Thomas knocked at the door.

"Daddy! Can I get it?" Philip bounced up and down in excitement.

"Go ahead, Pip."

He opened the door and Thomas came inside and handed Philip a toy that I couldn't see in the box.

"Daddy! Look! A batmobile!" Philip showed me the toy.

"Wow! We can get it out after dinner," Thomas came into the kitchen and kissed me hard, ignoring Sonny at the table, "that was sweet of you."

"Looks cool." He shrugged.

"You remember Sonny?" I gestured to the kid.

"Didn't know you already had company. Should I go?"

"What? No. It's, Sonny's just having a rough day, he's joining us for dinner."

"I see." He took his seat and I served Philip his plate, then, Sonny, Thomas, and finally myself.

"Thanks for dinner, Alex." Sonny stabbed his chicken with his fork.

"Thank you, daddy." Philip smiled at me.

Thomas finished chewing, "thanks."

We ate our dinner and chatted.

"Bro, I'm just saying, man, ain't gon' be no abortions happening Republicans keep fuckin' up the climate. Oops! I didn't mean to say fuck in front of Philip, shit, I said it again, fu-" Sonny took another bite to shut himself up.

"I know. I agree totally. The headlines are just distractions from the real news." I told him.

"It's not _that_ bad, you're being dramatic." Thomas countered.

"The world is like straight up on fire, pana." Sonny pointed out.

"I'm just saying. It's probably not as bad as the liberal media makes it sound."

"Dice pendejadas!" Sonny laughed to me.

"¡Claro!" I agreed that Thomas was indeed full of shit, "él es tonto, pero muy guapo."

Sonny shrugged, "él es a'ight."

Thomas was watching us go back and forth, "that's not fair."

"Mon pauvre cher." I teased him in a language he could understand.

Thomas smiled, "that's better, even if you're patronizing me."

After dinner Thomas went to the living room and Philip asked for help opening his toy. Sonny helped me clear the table and do the dishes.

"Can I, uh, would it be alright… what I'm trying to say is…"

"You need a place to stay for a couple days?" I asked, handing him a plate to dry.

"Is that cool?"

"Always."

"Thanks, bro. You're the dude."

"Just doing what was done for me. You know abuela will help you too."

"I hate asking her, though, man. She always go spouting on some biblía bullshit about how I gotta like be patient or some shit, bro, ain't no bible gon' fix my shit."

"She means well."

"Man, I know, but i just feel guilty up in her spot, all them dead Jesuses and Mary and the fuckin' Pope all staring at me all the time. Nah."

"There's so many dead Jesuses." I chuckled in agreement.

"It be like hella creepy."

"Hella." I nodded.

We finished the dishes and he joined me on the fire escape for a smoke.

"How old are you?" I asked, holding the cigarette out.

Sonny took it between his fingers, "shh."

I got Philip ready for bed and put the extra quilt I kept up in my closet and a pillow from my bed on the sofa for Sonny.

"Buenas noches," I fist bumped him.

"Buenas noches."

"¿Tienes que levantarte temprano mañana?"

"Sí, a las seis," I told him. I'd be lucky to sleep in until six.

Sonny made a face.

"Yeah, I don't like it either." I agreed, heading back to my bedroom.

Thomas covered himself up in my bedspread, "you know I don't like all the Spanish. I don't like being left out."

"Sorry it's just… easier with Sonny sometimes, we're big on Spanglish."

"It's not just Sonny, don't you think you talk to Philip too much in Spanish? Aren't the odds stacked high enough against him without Spanish?"

"Well… I want him to be proud of his roots. Being bilingual will help him get a job." I snuggled up to Thomas.

"Hmm… couldn't you do that with French?"

"Well… yeah, I guess."

He held me tightly in his strong arms and grabbed my ass, hitching my leg over his hip, "how lucky are you to have found the only guy in the world who could tolerate playing house with not only your son but also the strays you bring in when I could be out there, getting any twink I wanted."

"I'm so lucky." I breathed him in, nestling against his chest.

"Damn right, you are. I'm young and hot, you know."

"I know you are."

"And I'm here with you."

"So lucky." I repeated.

And while he fucked me I thought of how lucky I was, me, someone so undeserving of everything Thomas was, to have his attention and his affections.

Thomas was in the shower after we finished. I held myself in the after glow, my brain still releasing happy chemicals. I listened to Thomas hum in the shower and got up for a cigarette.

Sonny slept peacefully on the couch, mouth wide open, drooling on the pillow. Moving quietly as to not wake him, I covered him up with the blanket, tucking him in. Life had been too hard on him, he really was a good kid. The fire escape was my quiet refuge as I smoked my last cigarette of the night. Cars passed slowly on the street below, Dominican, Cuban, Puerto Rican, Mexican flags waved gently in the breeze. My fingers drummed a rhythm on the cold metal of the fire escape _alza la bandera, la bandera Dominicana._ I tamped my cigarette out in the ashtray, went inside for a cup of coffee and went to bed, where Thomas waited for me in the lamplight.

"Hello, gorgeous." I pecked him on the lips.

"Come to bed." Thomas patted the bed beside himself.

I snuggled against his side and hooked my fingers into the waistband of his sleep pants.

"I love you so much, T. I'm so lucky."

"I love you too, Alexander." He was quickly asleep.

I was still awake when Philip timidly opened the door.

"Daddy. Scared." He stood at the edge of the bed.

"Come on, papi." I pulled the covers back for him to get in.

Thomas rolled away from me as I readjusted with Philip, pressing himself into the corner. I held my boy in my arms and kissed his hair.

"Scary dream, daddy." He whispered.

"Dreams aren't real, amor, er… love. They can be scary, though, can't they?"

"Real scary."

"Love you, daddy."

"You keep me safe from monsters."

"Always keep my baby safe. What was your dream?"

"Thomas was a zombie! He tried to eat you and it made you really sad."

"Good thing that's just a dream."

"Uhuh, 'cause I love Thomas bunches."

"Me too."

I fell into my own dream. In a dark room, hearing a voice speaking sweetly to me, unfamiliar, a pang of guilt. It wasn't Thomas's voice.

"I love you, 'Lex. You're so beautiful."

I felt myself blush, undeserving of the praise. It was too dark to see the face that spoke the words. Cold feet between my thighs. Philip was in bed with us and I felt bad for inconveniencing the man who spoke sweetly to me.

"Sorry." I whispered in regards to having to share the bed with Philip.

"It's perfect. Don't be sorry. I've got both of my guys."

I blushed again, Philip was his too. A real family for Philip, not just him stuck with me. A real family for both of us. The pain in my ribs shocked me to consciousness, Philip had rolled over and driven his elbow into my chest. I looked over my shoulder at Thomas sleeping contentedly, facing the wall. Philip snuggled tightly to me and I brushed back his hair.

The dream kept pincers in me. I hated the guilty feeling that washed over me. That my subconscious had been unfaithful to Thomas. Trying to assuage my guilt, I backed my body against Thomas's sleeping form. He was warm and rolled over to spoon me. Safe. Warm. Guilty. Philip held Thomas's hand where it draped over my hip. I hated myself for letting my subconscious imagine anything that wasn't Thomas. Philip snored quietly. There wouldn't be any more sleeping tonight. I reached around my boy to my coffee cup and took a drink of the cold liquid.

Philip was none the wiser as I tapped out silent piano melodies on his back. Still trying to finish the silly project I'd been working on for what, the last seven years.

My brain turned over lyrics for Nina, the girl that felt like me, _what would I be if I never saw Manhattan, if my parents had stayed in Puerto Rico?_ Nothing came after those lyrics. I played the imaginary melody on Philip's back again and moved through the scenes in my mind, still unsure of the big moments of conflict that would drive the plot so it wasn't so 'day in the life' but nothing sounded right.

I took another drink of my cold coffee and Thomas stretched.

"What are you doing?" He whispered, blinking.

"Just can't sleep."

"If Philip wasn't here I'd give you something to make you sleep."

I shuddered at how suggestive that comment was and pushed back against the warmth of his body. He held me in his strong arms and coiled strands of my hair around his fingers.

Thomas fell back asleep, breath hot on the back of my neck. Unable to find sleep, but trapped by the sleeping bodies flanking me, I continued to think through my musical.

 _Come on brain, think of things. Come on brain, be so smart._

What could change my life?

What was worth writing?

What would change the landscape of the community around me?

I thought of Abuela, the bills I'd seen stacking up on her kitchen table. Wouldn't it be great if she won the lottery?

Wouldn't it be great if any of us did?

If Sonny could climb his way out of his situation. If Gabriela and Carmen could put it into the salon. If the Solario's could take a vacation. If I could show Philip the Caribbean, pay off student loans, help Abuela. We were all too practical for lavishness.

The foolish mental gymnastics my mind did were quickly chastised by my reason. It's silly to get into these crazy hypotheticals.

It's silly to get into these crazy hypotheticals.

It's silly when we get ourselves into these crazy hypotheticals, you really want some bread then go ahead…

It's silly when we get into these crazy hypotheticals, you really want some bread, then go ahead create a set of goals and cross 'em off when you pursue 'em.

 _Wait, shit. Yes._

I scrambled over the top of Philip and hurried to my desk, drafting those lyrics in the moonlight. I silently set my keyboard up on the desk, plugged in my headphones and started plinking out the rhythm.

…with that money I know precisely what I'm doing.

I lost the train of thought and stared over my shoulder at Philip sleeping peacefully.

Spend a few on you, 'cause the only room with a view is a room with you in it.

What would Thomas do with that kind of money? He didn't need it. But what would he do?

I played the same melody slowly.

If I won the lottery, you'd never see me again, I'll be downtown… I chuckled at how plausible the answer seemed.

 _Damn, we only joking, stay broke then._

Philip snuggled up to Thomas and Thomas held him.

I drank coffee on the fire escape until the sun came up, chain-smoking and watching the sun crest over the GWB. The door slid open quietly and I looked over my shoulder, Sonny was wrapped in the blanket he'd slept under, he came outside to sit with me. I wrapped the edge of the quilt around my shoulders, and we sat like two kids in a pillow fort together, passing a cigarette and watching the sun come up.

"What got you up so early, man?" He asked after we'd had our fill of sitting in the silence of the morning.

"Couldn't sleep."

"Working on songs?"

"Yeah." I admitted sheepishly, knowing it was a foolhardy endeavor to even try and write my silly show.

"You put me in it yet?"

I flicked the smoldering ash off the end of the smoke and looked at him.

"Sonny, what would you do if you won the lottery?"

"Like how much? Like a fuck ton? Like ten million?"

"I don't know… a normal amount, I guess. Not a… fuck ton."

"So like, ninety-six thousand?"

"Oddly specific, but sure. What would you do if you won ninety-six thousand dollars?"

"Shit, man, I'd fix housing, give the barrio computers, and that wireless browsin' wifi shit, we got too many kids going without good edu-ma-cation, I'd be out there teachin' 'bout gentrification, we got too many rich people penetratin', we pay corporations but like we should be like protestin' and shit. I mean, my, my rent is escalating and we got racism in this nation gettin' blatant 'cause politicians be mad hatin' on immigrants and shit. But like, I wouldn't lose my mu'fucking focus, man, nah, the ghetto got too many promises for me to keep."

I smirked at him, trying to stifle giggles, "you are so cute."

"What?" He frowned, cheeks turning red, "...I was just thinkin' off the top of my head."

"Nah, bro, I like your fire. I used to be firey."

"Til you got a ritzy job working for the white man, getting all Get Out brainwashed and shit."

"No, until I had a kid and had to put all my protest energy into making PB and J's."

"Mhm, I'm just sayin' bro, they mad scammin' in the theatre."

"I work for the most interracial company in the city."

He put on a whisper, "that's what they want you to think."

"You've got way too many conspiracy theories."

"Ain't a theory, bruh, it's the truth ruth."

I shook my head and rolled my eyes at him, but the truth of the matter was that I hoped that he never lost that spark, that fire to make things better.

"You're a good kid, Sonny."

He shrugged and helped me up to start the hustle of the day. He helped me make breakfast for Philip.

"Your dude eating breakfast at your spot, too?" Sonny asked, cracking eggs.

"Nah, he might later, lucky fool gets to sleep in."

We went through the motions of the day, my mind slogging and tired as it worked through the activities I'd had set aside for the day. Thomas didn't come over, but once I got Philip to bed I managed to sleep. It was fitful and restless, but by definition, it was still sleep.

The next few days followed suit just as that day had, my nights were consumed by guilty dreams about the man with the smokey voice that told me sweet things. My guilt accumulated with every passing night.

Thomas called me during an afternoon spent working with Lafayette.

"Hey, babe, what's up?"

"Want to go out with you. Bored."

"Okay. Like this weekend?"

"No, tonight."

"Tonight?"

"Yes, _tonight,_ " he mocked my tone, "for chrissakes, Alexander, man up, your grandmother will watch Philip, we're going out."

"Okay… pick me up at eight?"

"Prude. I'll pick you up at nine."

"Okay, nine works too, you're probably right. That's probably better."

That night Thomas did pick me up at nine… or thereabouts, nine and nine thirty were essentially the same thing. Philip was sleeping over in Abuela's apartment, she said not to worry about picking him up when I got home.

Thomas was waiting in the car for me, I opened the door and shut it once I was inside.

"Damn, you look good." I complimented him.

White suit, satin magenta shirt open halfway down his chest, gold chain framing his clavicle, hair perfectly symmetrical in a spray that bounced as he looked over his shoulder to check for traffic.

"I do what I can."

I didn't realize it was _that_ kind of go out and had settled on just a grey sweater and my nicer jeans. I picked at a loose thread and felt under dressed, not that I really had too many other fancy options, that wasn't the kind of life I lived.

We got to the club that Thomas wanted to go to and made our way through the line, he knew the bouncer, exchanged a complicated handshake with him and then we were on our way inside.

I waited beside him at the bar and he ordered his sex on the beach, smirking at the bartender. I ordered just a rum and coke, sticking to my usual. Thomas started a tab, hand on my ass and pulled me to the dancefloor. I looked around at the other people in the club, beautiful, perfect, half dressed and stared down at my Vans. I was completely out of place here, I sipped my drink, hoping that I could just stop caring, that the anxiety bubbling through me would get drowned in rum.

We danced together, he was a perfect dancer, I just followed the motions, letting him lead. Letting him guide me. A few drinks in and it got more and more enjoyable. I leaned in on Thomas and swayed my hips to the music. The one thing that I was good at was moving my hips. My penchant for drunken salsa was a compelling argument in both nature and nurture, but I watched with a puffed chest as it undid Thomas.

"I'm gonna go take a piss, then I'm taking you home, at this rate, I might just fuck you right in the backseat." He whispered in my ear.

My body ached for him at those words. When he disappeared through the crowd I dropped our glasses off at the bar. A man down the bar smirked at me. I nodded back.

 _Please don't come over here._

 _Please don't come over here._

Of course, though, he did, "hey,"

I gave another nod, trying to convey my disinterest, "hey."

"I saw you over there dancing. You're a good dancer."

My cheeks burned and tightened with a smile I didn't mean to make, feeling awkward and anxious, "oh, thanks."

The man, taller than me, slim, but muscular, dark, molten eyes, took my hand, "may I?"

I tried to take my hand back without making myself seem rude, "I, um, I have a boyfriend, but, uh, well, thanks for… the invite."

He put his other hand on the back of the chair I was sitting in, getting closer to me, "he know how lucky he is?"

"I… I mean, yeah… yeah."

Thomas became visible, I saw him before he saw me.

"You sure I can't steal you away for one dance?"

"No, I don't think that's a great idea."

Thomas put his hand on my back and smiled a tightlipped smile, with black eagle eyes at my would-be suitor, "we have a problem here?"

I shook my head quickly, "no, babe, everything's fine."

The other man quickly spoke up, "sorry, man, wasn't trying to overstep. You guys have a good night."

Thomas smiled his tightlipped Cheshire grin once more, kept his hand on my back and walked me out the door of the club. I chanced a glance at him and decided to stay silent while we waited for valet. He schmoozed with the driver when his car was pulled around and slid into the driver's seat.

"Fuck was that?" his knuckles turned white on the steering wheel.

"I told him I wasn't interested." I promised.

Thomas seethed, he swerved just a little bit pulling away from the curb, I wondered if he was good to drive, but thought it better not to say anything.

"Can't fucking believe you, Alex."

"I told him no, T. I swear. I would never…" I couldn't even speak it, my guilty dreams flashed in my mind.

"Wouldn't what Alex?" His jaw clenched and unclenched.

"I would never be unfaithful to you, Thomas. I would never try to make you jealous." I picked at the same loose threads from earlier.

"Jealous? I'm not jealous. I can take all those assholes, whatever."

"I know…"

He sped up, still gripping the steering wheel, his veins popping out on the back of his hand.

"I'm sorry."

"Damned right, you're sorry. Embarrass me. I try and take you out, make you feel special… that's what I get for being such a generous guy, get made a fucking fool of, and by you. Jesus fucking Christ, Alexander. You really pulled one over on me tonight, didn't you, baby?"

I had nothing else to say, nothing that would make it better, so I just let silent tears roll down my cheeks.

"That's right, classic. Classic fucking Alex, right there. That's perfect. So I'm the one that gets fucking cuckolded and emasculated, but you're the one that gets to throw a fucking pity party for yourself, I don't know what I expected."

I made myself stop crying, hearing echoing words from my father in Thomas's voice. We made it in one piece to his apartment. I followed him into the elevator and stood against the wall, watching his nostrils flare. This was the first time he'd ever actually scared me, but this was also the drunkest I guess I'd ever seen him. It made sense, I mean, if he was drunk, it made sense that he'd react like this, especially because he didn't hear me telling that guy I wasn't interested. All he saw was me blushing and smiling like a stupid school girl. I wasn't flirting, I was just awkward. His fists clenched and unclenched, I waited for him to turn violent, sure that it was coming, surer still that I'd deserve it.

Thomas took a deep breath once we got into his loft and all of the tension seemed to leave his body.

"I'm sorry for losing my temper." He hugged me and I melted into him.

"It's okay. I didn't mean to embarrass you, Thomas. I'd never want to make you feel bad, you mean so much to me."

"I just…" his voice cracked, "I saw that guy and I just… I can't imagine losing you, Alex. You're too beautiful. I don't know what I would do if I lost you."

"I'm not going anywhere, Thomas. I'm all yours."

"I complain about a lot, I know I do, but that's just how invested in you I am. Can't you tell that? That I just want what's best for you?" I heard him cry as his hand knotted in the hair at the nape of my neck.

"I know you do. Shh… I know you do." I comforted him.

"God, it's hard enough not being the most important thing in your life. I know, you say it enough that that's always going to be your kid. But what would I do if I wasn't the most important man in your life, Alex?"

"I don't know. But you never will, Thom… never. I promise."

He petted my hair and wept, holding me tightly. We stood in the hallway of his loft like that. I was almost too desentized to feel anything. Part of me wanted to leave, the other part, the part that would win, wanted us to lick each other's wounds and make things right again.

"I love you, Alex." He kissed me, tongue tasting mine, hands trailing my body.

"I love you, too. I'm so sorry."

"Let me make love to you. Let me forgive you."

I nodded and followed him to his bedroom where we undressed ourselves, he pushed me back onto his bed pressing rough kisses down my neck.

"I'm sorry."

"I know you are." He murmured against my flesh.

"I didn't mean to hurt you."

He clamped a hand over my mouth and I realized that this was not the time to be speaking. I felt along his body, fisting my hand around his cock and stroking it. He bit his lip, pleasure creeping into his face as he reached for the lube he left next to the lamp on his bedside table.

"Will you?" I asked him, used to prepping myself, but desperate for his touch.

"Because I love you."

"You love me so well, Thomas."

He pressed a lubed finger into my entrance and I hissed, Thomas wasn't one to be gentle, but after how I'd embarrassed him, I was sure that I deserved it. Another finger I wasn't ready for left me jumping, he held my shoulder, hushing me. It was all okay. I was fine, I could take it, be what he needed me to be.

"Love you. Love you, Thom. Love… God… love you."

"That's right, Alex. That's goddamn right."

He pulled out abruptly and I gasped at the sense of loss. It was quickly replaced with the push of his thick cock entering me. I cried out, biting his shoulder, my ankle hitching over his hip. My fingers grooving in the knobs of his spine.

"Mine." He growled into my ear.

"All yours." I agreed, rooting for his lips.

Had to kiss him. Had to kiss it better. He moved within me and I found the pace to rock with him. And the world seemed to burn.

"You love me, Alex?"

"Of course I love you, Thomas. You are the only man I'll ever love."

"Only man you want buried inside you?"

"Forever."

"Yeah."

I wished that forever was a promises that was even on the table for him. I knew that I was temporary for him. I hated knowing that I was temporary. His length stroking my prostate was almost enough to make me forget that I was only there to warm his cock until he got bored. _Almost._ Tears stung my eyes. The pleasing pressure on my prostate and the thought of him casting, me, Philip, us aside whenever he finally got bored was too overwhelming.

Thomas stopped moving in me, "flip over."

He pulled out long enough for me to get on my knees and elbows. He didn't want to see me cry, usually I wasn't a 'cry during sex' kind of guy, but it had been a long night. A difficult night. His thrusts were faster now. This was what I was used to from Thomas. I knew precisely when to anticipate the fist in my hair.

"Gonna fuck you 'til I come, cream your ass so hard you'll see stars, you got that?" He reached around my hip to take my hardness into his fist.

I nodded, hot tears still leaking out of my eyes, not even sure what emotion I was feeling, just the intensity of the world closing in on me.

"Hot little slut. Love fucking you until you cry."

At least I did something right. The burn of ripping hair at my temples excited me more. My stomach shuddered and my toes curled as my orgasm hit.

"Couldn't even wait for me, could you, sex little whore?"

I shook my head, feeling spent. He sped up his pace, ramming into me, knocking the headboard into the wall behind the bed. I gasped and let out a scream of bliss as he continued to fuck into me hard, my walls still reverberating from my first dose of pleasure. He grunted, pace becoming erratic.

"Fuck… fuck… Alexander. Fucking… goddamn." He bent over me as he spent himself, his wet heat filling me.

We both panted, bodies in unison, sticky with sweat, the smell of our sex in the air. He pulled out and was on his way to the bathroom, the shower turning on and him humming to himself. I hoped that I would never again hurt him the way that I had and that this truly had made it better.

I was dozing when he came back, hair pulled up high on his head, the moonlight showing off just how similar his cheekbones and Laf's looked without his hair in the way.

"I love you, Thomas." I whispered as he crawled in bed with me.

"Mmm." He let me snuggle against him and fell asleep quickly.

I managed to sleep and woke to my alarm, nearly falling out of bed at the startle of realizing that it wasn't my own. I hurried to get home to Philip, leaving Thomas without waking him.

Back at my own apartment building, I picked Philip up from Abuela's and took him upstairs to feed him and get him dressed.

"What did you do with Abuela?" I asked him.

"We made pictures."

"Oh, yeah? Of what?"

He grabbed a drawing out of his backpack. I recognized myself and him from how he drew us, but there was a giant rectangle on the other side of him.

"What's this?" I pointed at the rectangle.

"That's for my mama or my daddy number two. It's blank so I can fill it in later when I get one, whenever we're a real family and not just daddy and Pip."

I nodded, trying not to acknowledge how deeply that stung, "gotcha."

"Maybe I can put Thomas there if he ever wanted to be my daddy… but I think he just doesn't want me to be his kid… maybe 'cause sometimes I'm bad and he only wants a good boy."

I crouched beside him and swept his hair back, "no, listen, you are a good boy, you're never bad, sometimes you make mistakes, or even bad choices, but you're a good boy and if Thomas doesn't want to be your second daddy then that's on him and he doesn't even know what he's missing because, buddy, being your daddy is the best thing in the whole wide world."

"It is?"

"It is." I promised.

"Sometimes I wish we had a real family."

"I know… I wish I could give you that, you don't know how much I do, baby."

"But my mama wasn't big enough to be a good mama, even though you were big enough to be a good- the bestest, daddy forever in my whole life, but 'cause my mama wasn't ready to be a mama I don't have a real family… just daddy and Pip."

"We're a pretty good little family, though, we have Abuelita, and oncle Laf."

"Yeah, I guess that's true."

"And all the people in the barri-neighbourhood, like the Solario's and the ladies at the salon, and Sonny and Fernando."

"Yeah! I love all those people."

"They love you bunches." I kissed the top of his head.

"I love them bunches-er."

I chuckled, "alright, shorty, let's get you going. Daddy has to meet with the guy who's gonna make the costumes for the show."

"Can I have a costume?"

"Not Halloween costumes, the costumes for the show."

"Oh… I was hoping I could be a bat… or a golden retriever… or maybe just a dinosaur."

'I like all those ideas. We'll have to think more about it around Halloween."

"I love Halloween." He sighed dreamily.

I dropped him off, met with Lafayette and Hercules, feeling the palpable sexual tension between the two of them, the way that Lafayette leaned in, laughed when things weren't even that funny. I gave it two months before Laf called me with juicy stories to recount. The evening routine went alright, I wasn't surprised to not hear from Thomas, figuring it would be another day or so before I did.

I felt restless. Chain smoking on the fire escape wasn't doing it so I switched on the old baby monitor and looped it into my belt loop like a headset and set off for a walk. I knew from practice exactly what the in range radius was and walked it, processing new lyrics and melodies.

It was a still night, the orange haze of street lights illuminating my path as I walked, listening to the sounds of the city just a few blocks away, but this little stretch, it was quiet. It was home, even when it wasn't perfect, it was home. As I walked, I kept an eye out for Sonny, wondering where he'd spent the last two nights since I'd heard from him. It was a safe bet that he was either back home, staying with 'Nando, or found a suitor to crash with. I hoped for the latter. Kid deserved it.

The thoughts of the empty rectangle from Philip's drawing came into my mind. What was I doing with Thomas if even my child knew that he'd never fill the missing piece. I felt foolish for loving him so much, letting things go this far if he wasn't going to be able to be that for us, for my boy. I thought a lot about the previous night, about how I'd tearfully promised that I wasn't going to go anywhere. I had too many promises to keep. As usual, there were too many eyes on me. Too many people to not let down.

I flicked the glowing cherry off my cigarette and headed back home from my walk, nervous that Philip would wake up and find me gone, it had only happened once, but I felt like the worst person ever when it had. Desperate for sleep, but too disheartened to sleep alone I crawled into Philip's bed with him.

He blinked at me despite my efforts not to wake him, "did you have a scary dream, daddy?"

"No, daddy just wanted to snuggle his boy."

Philip slipped into my arms and I breathed him in, letting that be what overwhelmed my thoughts and my senses. I'd done alright with him. Somehow, with Philip's warm, sleepy body beside me I slept. I slept deeply and restfully leaving me feeling more ready to take on the day when morning came.


	15. Chapter 15

**My dear friend Paggers requested some prompts for her birthday and I couldn't help but oblige, stop by her page and give her some birthday love.  
This little guy takes place somewhere in my LYNITS universe.**

* * *

I yawned into my morning cup of tea and smiled at the sounds of my two sweetest loves coming from the kitchen.

Philip was his ever excitable self and I could hear it grating at Alex's nerves, "papi, we _have_ to add some cinnamon, you always say 'a little bit of cinnamon' so we should add it to make these the best pancakes for daddy."

"Shh, we will Pip, just let papi look at the recipe for a minute."

"Daddy never looks at a recipe, it's just pancakes." Philip chided.

"Well… papi does, _daddy_ doesn't think that things have to be so precise."

"Hey! I can hear you in there!" I interjected from my place curled up on the couch.

"Papi, you have to be quiet or we'll ruin the surprise… and be nice to daddy."

"I'm making daddy pancakes, he'll be fine."

"Shh! Daddy can't know what we're making!"

I giggled to myself over how adorable their bickering was.

"Alright, fuck it, here goes."

"Bad word."

"It's fine, Pip."

After a few minutes a burning smell filled the house, quickly followed by the blare of the smoke detector.

"We're fine!" Alex shouted over Philip's screams of panic.

Alex appeared in front of the smoke alarm in my 'Kiss the Cook' apron and waved a kitchen towel in front of the squawking alarm.

"Need help?" I offered once the blaring had been silenced.

"I'm so shit at this." His shoulders slumped.

"Come on, I'll help you guys." I stood up and kissed his stubbly cheek, taking his hand, following him into the kitchen.

Philip sprang into action to try and push me out.

"Daddy, you can't be in here, this is only me and papi in the kitchen, we're making you breakfast."

"I know, baby, that's so sweet of you, I'm gonna help though, yeah? It's papi's father's day too,"

"Fine." Philip pouted.

I examined the kitchen, batter was everywhere, on the fronts of the cabinets, smeared on the floor and laughed to myself at all of the extra work they'd caused me by trying to be sweet, it made my heart happy, though, to see the love and care they'd put into giving me a good father's day.

"Alright, so what all's in the batter?" I pushed up my sleeves.

"Flour and water, baking powder."

"And cinnamon!" Philip reminded Alex.

"Okay, you're off to a good start. Not too shabby." I tasted the batter and reached in the cupboards to add what was necessary.

" _See, papi,_ no recipe." Philip pointed out, helping me stir.

"'Lex, baby, can you push up Pip's sleeves again for me?" I asked, noting the sleeves on my old NASA hoodie hanging over Philip as he wore the garment like a dress.

"Got it, querido." Alex got to work pushing the sleeves back to his elbows.

"Thank you, alright, let's check the temperature," I changed it just a touch, "and did you grease it with butter or cooking spray?"

Alex bit his lip and shook his head.

I playfully bumped his hip with my own, "there's your problem, my love, Pip, can you get daddy the butter from the fridge?"

Philip hurried to be helpful.

"Thank you… I'm sorry we couldn't make you breakfast." Alex whispered in my ear, stealing a kiss on my cheek.

"It's okay, really. Plus, I'll let you clean up."

"That seems fair."

Once we had a healthy stack of pancakes being kept warm in the oven, I turned the burner off. Philip and Alex set the table and we enjoyed our breakfast.

"This is really tasty!" Philip said around a mouthful of pancakes.

"Eat first, mi hijo," Alex reminded him.

"You guys did a great job," I smiled to Alex, clinking my mimosa glass with his, and then with Pip's glass of orange juice.

"Can we do presents now? Please!" Philip begged.

"Alright, alright, but wash your sticky fingers first." Alex pretended to nibble at Philip's hands, earning a squeal from the boy.

"What do you think he got us?" I asked Alex.

"Considering that Laf took him shopping? Shit, could be a rolex, could be Gucci, who knows."

I smirked, "someday, Laf's going to have kids-"

"Jokes on him then."

"Oh yeah, it's all fun and games being the rich childless uncle."

Philip brought back an armful of gifts, carefully wrapped by Lafayette, with ample tape, suggesting Philip's involvement.

"This one's for papi." He handed Alex a gift and Alex opened it carefully.

A sparkling new fountain pen was in the box. Alex squeezed Philip tightly, "how did you know I needed a new pen, mi hijo?"

"Because I'm brilliant."

"That's apparent."

Philip handed me a gift, "this one's for daddy."

I unwrapped it and found a new set of paintbrushes, "baby, they're perfect, thank you so much!"

"I remembered that I kind of messed up your good paintbrushes but now you have these." Philip reminded me as I held him to my chest.

"Thank you, baby, you're such a thoughtful kid."

"Another one for Papi." Philip handed Alex a package.

He opened it to reveal a tie clip with our three initals engraved on it.

"This is really nice, Pip." Alex stared with wide eyes.

"Oncle thought you would like it, because then you can keep me and daddy close to your heart when you have to dress up for court."

"I do like it, you two did a wondeful job."

"This last one is for you, daddy."

I opened my gift, a novelty mug with 'World's #1 Dad!' printed on the side in red and blue letters.

"Awh, that's so sweet, Philip! Thank you."

"'Cause you are the number one daddy!" He hugged me again, "I'm gonna go play now, love you guys."

Philip bounded off upstairs to his room.

"Why do you get to be number one? And why do you get a mug? I'm the one who drinks coffee, you should've gotten a teacup." Alex frowned.

"Are you all in your feelings now?" I took his hand and led him to the living room.

"No… maybe."

I smiled at him, "Philip loves you, I love you. I think you're an amazing father, Alex. Our kid is so lucky to have you."

Alex rolled his eyes and I nuzzled into his side on the couch, yawning into his neck.

"What do you want to do today?" I asked him.

"Just be with you guys. We have dinner later with Herc and Laf."

"Right." I yawned again.

"I think you should take a nap and I'll read the news." He kissed my forehead.

"I love that plan." I leaned my head on his shoulder and closed my eyes.

Alex let me doze while he read through twitter, mumbling in annoyance at different political headlines. He slipped away without my noticing and I woke up to the sounds of clattering from the kitchen. After a yawn and a stretch I got up, noticing the blanket Alex had wrapped me in before he got up. I followed the sound to the kitchen and found Alex washing up from the messy morning while Philip ate a sandwich at the breakfast bar.

"Hi guys," I ruffled Philip's hair.

"You were sleepy, daddy,"

"I know, I sure was. Lucky for me it's father's day so I can take a nap if I want to."

"How come papi didn't take a nap?"

"Because I wasn't tired." Alex responded playfully, blowing dish soap bubbles at Philip.

"When do we get to see Laf and Hercules?" Philip groaned.

I checked the clock on the stove, it was already two, "in about four more hours."

"Ugh, forever."

Philip put his plate in the sink and went to go play in his room some more.

"Can I just tell you that it's super hot when you do the dishes?" I wrapped my arms around Alex's waist.

"Yeah?"

"Oh yeah, partially because you're super hot in general, but mostly because I didn't have to do them."

"Think maybe I should do dishes more often?" He said in that quintessentially husky Alex tone.

"I love it when you talk dirty to me." I kissed the shell of his ear.

"What's gotten into you, querido?"

"I don't even know how that's a question, got breakfast made for me, got to take a nap, home with my guys. Life is perfect, all that's left is you."

"You're still riding high on that number one dad thing, aren't you?"

I rolled my eyes, "and you're still hung up on it."

"I'm teasing,"

"That's Alex speak for 'passive aggressive,'"

"No comment."

"I know you." I pulled him tighter to me and he dried his hands and spun to kiss me hard.

"Where'd that come from?" I panted once we'd broken apart.

"Love it when you're all assertive, coming on to me."

I smiled to myself, feeling his hardness between us, "you've been sporting that since I first came up behind you, haven't you?"

"Without a doubt," he confirmed my suspicions, "if Laf really wanted to give us a gift they'd take Philip tonight."

"Oh please, Pip being here won't stop us."

"I know… but it's a shame to force you to be quiet." He bit his lip.

"Daddies!" Philip called from the stairs.

Alex licked his lips and shifted his hips to discreetly adjust himself preparing himself to turn back into 'papi' mode.

"What is it, Pip?" I asked, my voice a little higher than intended.

"Can we play a game?"

"What game do you want to play?" I asked him.

"Maybe Candy Land?"

"I don't think papi likes Candy Land very much… and it is father's day."

"Fine, monopoly junior." Philip sighed.

"And after that we're going to play another game."

His eyes lit up, "which one?"

"The brush your hair game,"

He looked as if I'd just smacked him across the face, "that's not a game."

"Maybe not, but we need to do it."

Philip grumbled, "okay, but monopoly junior first. I'll set it up."

He went to go find the box.

"Thank you," Alex whispered.

"I know how much you hate Candy Land, just try not to kick our asses, huh?"

Alex winked at me wolfishly and I helped Philip set the game up on the coffee table.

"Do you think we should be on a team against papi?" I asked of Philip.

"I want to play by myself."

"Alright, buddy, I just think we have a better shot of not losing if we team up."

"No, he will win either way, he always wins monopoly, I just want to play and have fun like I'm rich."

"Good plan."

Within the first twenty minutes I was bankrupt and Alex was forcing Philip into a corner as his loan shark.

"How long are you gonna drag this out?" I asked as Alex offered a bailout to Philip in exchange for one of his properties that would give him a colour monopoly.

"I don't know, long as it takes." He shrugged.

"Pip, you think we should call it papi's victory and brush your hair?"

"No, no, no, no, I want to keep playing."

"Alright, after that, though, you know what time it is."

It was all downhill from that moment, Alex eventually owned the whole board and quickly bankrupt Philip.

"Aren't you glad I'm not a financial attorney?" Alex asked me.

"I know how much you liked that class." I rolled my eyes.

Philip and I went to the bathroom to get him started on his routine to get presentable to leave the house,I brushed his hair and washed his face before helping him pick out his clothing. In the meantime, Alex had shaved and was getting himself dressed.

"You look sharp, babe." I told him as I started to get dressed.

"Thank you, querido."

Once I got dressed he glanced my way, putting his shoes on, "how are you so sexy?"

"I… um.. .I don't know." I felt heat rise to my cheeks under his stare.

"You are so going to get it later?"

"Promise?"

"Swear on my life," he vowed.

We made it to the restaurant where Laf and Herc were already waiting for us, Philip ran over and hugged them both excitedly as we greeted them and took our seats.

"Did you have a nice day?" Lafayette inquired.

"The greatest. I got breakfast made for me, took a nap." I sighed dreamily.

"I stayed in my pajamas and surfed the internet." Alex added.

"It is your perfect day." Lafayette grinned.

We looked over the menu and decided what to have, ordering when our server came by.

"Did you like your gifts?" Laf asked.

I swallowed my wine, "they were perfect! You guys did such a fantastic job."

"Good. Mon dieu, Pip fretted over that mug the entire time, he was forlorn that there wasn't a 'World's Greatest Papi' mug since you're both the greatest, but Alex isn't called daddy, so I suggested the tie clip with your initials."

Alex choked on his rum and coke, "oh," was all he could manage.

I elbowed him, "see?"

"Did you think you weren't the best, papi?" Philip asked.

"Nah," Alex shrugged it off.

"'Cause see, daddy's the best _dad_ , but you're the best _papi._ "

Alex's face split into a grin without his permission, "you're just the best kid ever."


	16. Chapter 16

"I'll take another." I tapped the bar top with two fingers after the announcement.

The curly haired bartender nodded and slid me another full glass.

"Can I get you anything else?" He asked.

The drink melting my inhibitions and the way his heavy lashes hooded his eyelids making me bold, "your number?"

He ran his finger around the rim of my glass, "do you one better. I live upstairs. Come find me once I close this shithole down."

I downed my drink, tantalized by his matching my energy. I would absolutely be following him up on his offer.

I left a twenty on the bar and slipped outside to wait for him to shut it down. Soon enough people started to spill out into the night. It was cool, late autumn chill settling in the air, almost Halloween, silly decorations hung in shop windows down the strip. Passing the time on my phone, trying to look casual, I waited for him, kept warm by the arousal burning a hole through me.

Finally he came outside, now clad in a leather jacket, lighting a cigarette. He smiled around it.

"Hey," he nodded to me, "you stuck around."

"Yeah. What'd you say your name was?"

"John."

"Alex."

"How drunk are you?"

"Not drunk enough."

"Come on, I can fix that." He flicked the cigarette to the ground and placed his hand on the small of my back.

My breath exhaled in a shaky cloud around me, helplessly intrigued by his advances. I let him guide me up the metallic stairs to the second floor where he fumbled with his keys to unlock the door. His apartment was small, grungy, exactly what I'd expect. John reached down and plugged in Christmas lights, giving the room a soft glow.

"What's your poison? Rum still?"

"I'm… yeah. Rum."

He moved to get it, leaving me feeling awkward, I usually wasn't sober enough to remember hook ups, and shit, none of them had been with people this attractive.

"Can I help with glasses or something?"

He peered through the breakfast bar, "tonight, we're drinking straight from the bottle."

From another area in the apartment a low, sexual moaning began. I tried to laugh the sounds off, "neighbours?"

John flushed, igniting the freckles across the bridge of his nose, "no, uh, just give me a second."

He handed me the bottle and went down the hall, Doc Martens squeaking on the worn wooden floors. With caution, I took a sip from the bottle, even if he was hiding a gimp tied up in his bedroom, he had good rum, it was worth a gamble.

"You're supposed to be sleeping, you know better." John's voice was musical, playful.

There was a chirping squeak, too low for me to make out, but John responded to it conversationally.

"Your sister is sleeping, why can't you be good like her?"

Sister? What the fuck had I gotten myself into. I contemplated leaving while I could, before I ended up clad in latex and chained to a radiator, but the rum was good and I was painfully curious.

"I suppose you want a snack now, huh?"

A sharp squeak of delight followed.

"Calm down, we have company, be nice."

His footsteps came down the hallway before he did. I braced myself, there was only one set of them. When John appeared, a small blue and grey bird sat on his shoulder, nuzzling his cheek.

"This is Dali." John said, offering his finger to the bird who stepped onto the waiting digit.

He held the animal out towards me. I laughed and took a deep swallow from the bottle in relief.

"You have... birds?"

"Yeah, his sister Kahlo is sleeping like a good girl,but someone's naughty. Hey, don't eat my hair, I'll flick you."

"Ow! Naughty b-ird." Dali responded, bobbing his head.

"That's right, very naughty. Make yourself at home, Alex, give me a second with this little asshole."

"Was he… moaning?" I asked.

John rolled his eyes before he turned to open the refrigerator, getting out some fresh berries, "someone listens to things they shouldn't."

"Ah...ah...ah-ah... ah...oooh! Fu-ck!" The bird mocked from his finger.

John shook his head, "that's naughty."

"Naughty bird!" Dali responded.

"You wanna feed him? He's got a cute tiny little tongue."

"I'm good. Thanks." I backed up a step, wanting nothing to do with it.

"He's sweet." John offered the bird a chunk of strawberry and I watched it bite his finger.

He winced, "don't be an asshole."

"Fucker!" The bird chirped happily.

"He likes to show off for new people. Sorry. I didn't mean to go all 'weird bird guy' that's not a good pre-hookup look."

"I li-ike that! Yeah-yeah yeah!" Dali bobbed his head in succession.

"Don't birds only mimic what they hear a lot?"

John bit his lip and giggled, "I mean… for the most part, yes."

"So he must hear a lot of that?" I took another swig of the astringent liquid, getting buzzed enough to decide that getting off was more of a priority than being freaked out by a self-proclaimed weird bird guy.

"Enough." John shrugged.

"What do you think you're going to teach him tonight?"

"Alex, huh? Yeah. I just might teach him that."

I grinned back at him, this weird bird guy was fucking hot.

"Alright, it's well past someone's bed time, so give me just a minute and then I'm all yours."

He disappeared back down the hall against, quietly chastising his pet the whole way, something about being quiet and not waking his 'sister.' When he came back he was pulling off his jacket, showing off the tight v neck t-shirt he'd been wearing all night.

"Look, I'm really sorry about all that. Hope it wasn't a total mood killer for you."

"I've seen some weird shit, you're sexy enough for me to get past that."

"Good. Godammit you're sexy." His hand found the center of my chest and he pushed me back against his old leather sofa.

My calves found the edge of the furniture and he pressed me down into it, straddling me.

"Give me that bottle." He took it from my hand and gulped an impressive drink from it, before setting it on the ground.

Before I could calculate his next move his mouth was on mine His kisses were frantic, mouth cold from the rum, his tongue working over mine. The feeling of the crotch of his jeans pressing against me was my undoing. Hands in my hair, tearing free the elastic keeping it pulled back. My head being pulled back but the grip at the nape of my neck, our kiss deepened.

He eventually pulled off of me and licked his lips, now swollen and stained red as the berries he'd fed his bird. His hands pulled at the hem of my shirt and I moved to allow him to remove it, he pulled off his own, shadows from the streetlights fell on his abs. I bit my lip and arched my back to feel the warmth of his skin.

"Fucking sexy… all night in my bar." He panted.

"Wanted you to fuck me right there." I agreed, tipping my chin up to graze his nipple with my teeth.

His whole body shuddered at my touch and he moved us to lie down on the couch, him still on top of me.

"You thought downstairs was sexy, just wait for what I'm about to do to you tonight."

My mind swam heavily from the alcohol giving my body the freedom to behave independently of my cognizance. My legs wrapped around his hips, drawing our pelvises closer together. He ground against me, pubic bone tantalizing me. He filled the space between my parted lips with his kiss and I moaned deeply into him.

There was another moan from his bedroom, he reached behind himself and untied his boot, ripped it off and only broke our kiss to shout, "be quiet and go to sleep," while chucking the boot down the hall.

I couldn't stifle my laugh and pulled away from him to properly wheeze with laughter. John rolled his eyes and pulled off his other boot, this time gently setting it down.

"You want me to fuck you?" He asked, curls cascading down around my face.

"Been waiting." I told him.

"Hard?"

I swallowed, sure that in that very moment my pupils had blown, and nodded.

"You want me to make you come, leavie you wilted on my cock?"

"Like the last goddamn bloom on the vine."

I gripped the tendrils looming in my face and pulled him to me again, needed to taste him again. Needed to feel his mouth on mine, those swollen lips. His hands moved between us, fidgeting with my zipper, he pulled my pants off and gripped my ass. I unbuckled his belt and repeated the actions, dropping his pants to his knees, leaving him in loose cotton boxers.

"Are you going to take me or what?" I asked him, licking the shell of his ear.

He got off of me and stepped the rest of the way out of his pants, leaving him down to his socks and underwear, even his thighs were muscular. I was in for one hell of a night. I stood up, the world tilted at an angle by the rum.

"Come on, darlin'," he guided me down the hallway, stumbling over his discarded boot, less sure of himself after drinking, and opened the door.

John's bedroom was small, occupied by his unmade bed in the center, under the window. In the corner sat the birds' cage, covered in a thin blanket.

He was on top of me once more, lips fervently at war with one another. Hands searching, finding, rejoicing. He moved away, returning with lube and condoms.

His hands, he was so gentle, even in our frantic dash to consume and be consumed. There was heat and friction. He cupped my head and kissed me again, our bodies working against each other in tandem.

The bars of light let in by the blinds on the window illuminated him in fragments, his golden eyes, the tip of his nose, those lips. His grunts were those of the bird from earlier. He gasped, around our kisses and stared down at me.

He speech was punctuated by the movement of his body, "so, fucking, perfect."

Loosening a hand from where I'd tangled it in his hair I stroked his cheek, had to touch that beautiful face, had to have that intimacy with him.

"Ah, Alex." His mouth hung open, eyes staring down at me.

"Love how you feel." I gritted my teeth, bracing against the sensations.

One of his hands found my ass again, hitching me up into him even closer. I hissed against the feeling and felt my eyebrows knitting closer to one another.

"Alex, fucking shit, Alex." His breathing was in ragged gasps.

"You feel so fucking good." I nibbled at the skin of his wrist, hand pressing into the bed next to my head.

"Alex," he moaned again, eyes hooding.

His bliss exploded in a string of curses and sharp, staccato movements, still working to throw me off the cliff after him.

I ground against his actions, needing him more than ever. I chased euphoria, running after it, breathing hard, and dove over the ledge, my body wracked with shivers not from cold, but rather from heat.

"That was fucking incredible." I sighed, waiting for blood to start flowing to my extremities again.

He lit a cigarette, "pretty fucking incredible."

I started to look over the edge of the bed for my discarded undergarments but felt his warm hand pulling me back. His arms wrapped around me and pulled me tightly to his chest.

"Stay here, even just for a little bit."

"Oh... yeah? You're sure?"

His legs threaded through mine and he took another drag, "positive, and, hey, I'm not saying I make the best scrambled eggs and hot sauce in the world in the morning, but I am offering for you to judge them for yourself."

"Is there toast?" I asked, trying to stay playful.

"Sourdough."

"Alright you got me."

He stubbed his cigarette out in the ashtray beside his bed and found the comforter to wrap us in.

"I think this was the best birthday I've ever had." He sighed contentedly.

"It's your birthday? Shit, happy birthday, John."

"Thanks," he nuzzled into the crook of my shoulder, heavy with sleep.

From under the blanket in the corner of the room came a squawk of, "A-a? A-a-a. A-ah. Alex!" Followed by delighted chirps.

"Godammit, go to sleep, Dali!" John groaned in my ear, halfway sleeping.


End file.
